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Yahoo
14-06-2025
- Yahoo
Did he or didn't he? History wrestles with legend of Jesse James' jump over Devil's Gulch
Jun. 13—GARRETSON, S.D. — In 1876, legendary outlaw Jesse James and his brother Frank were on the run after committing a bank robbery in Northfield, Minnesota. Chased by a posse, the two Missouri natives raced west, managing to stay ahead of their pursuers. Eventually, they crossed into what was then Dakota Territory. What exactly happened next has long been open to speculation. But local myth holds that Jesse James, moving as fast as he could on horseback, managed to make a leap of roughly 18 feet over Devil's Gulch in Garretson, leaving the justice-seeking posse behind and allowing him to escape capture. Now, nearly 150 years later, the picturesque quartzite rock canyon, nestled in a nook in Garretson and boasting remarkable scenic beauty, still attracts visitors to take in the view and ponder whether the American legend actually managed to make it across the gap. An annual summer festival in town is even named after him. For Wayne Fanebust, a Sioux Falls-based historian and author of several non-fiction books including Chasing Frank and Jesse James: The Bungled Northfield Bank Robbery and the Long Manhunt, the answer to the question of did Jesse James jump Devil's Gulch is fairly clear. "I'm saying it did not happen," Fanebust told the Mitchell Republic in a recent interview. "I know, I'm a myth buster." Fanebust calls Jesse James' alleged leap of Devil's Gulch one of his favorite topics. As a historian who has researched the Wild West age of 19th century United States and penned historical books on the Civil War and turn-of-the-century true crime incidents, he has vast experience in digging into topics where the facts have become hazy with the passage of time. The Devil's Gulch jump is one such case where the facts are hard to come by, but there are some aspects about what led up to the alleged jump that is known. Jesse James and his brother, Frank, along with six other members of their gang, attempted a bank robbery in Northfield, Minnesota on Sept. 7, 1876. It was a messy affair, with four men killed during the ensuing gun battle, including two members of the gang. It was a lot of blood spilled for a total take of about $25 in nickels. Now on the run, the group split up a few days later but still managed to evade capture. Trying to make their way back to their home state of Missouri, the brothers made stops near Luverne, Minnesota on Sept. 17 of that year and entered what was then Dakota Territory about five miles north of Valley Springs later that evening, a timeline that suggests the James brothers were never near Devil's Gulch. "It's known they were 12 miles north of present-day Luverne in the evening. They were in Dakota Territory, (but) in all likelihood they traveled as fast and steadily as they could over that ground, and they would have missed it altogether," Fanebust said. The Devils Gulch gap today measures about 18 feet across and rises about 30 feet above the creek bed below. The lead up to the eastern edge of the gap is rugged and uneven, with dense trees obstructing any clear path where James could have spurred his horse on to a full gallop. Though it is assumed by many that a well-rested horse could clear such a gap, the short approach of the chasm calls into doubt just how much momentum could be carried into the jump. The legend also tends to overlook the details of Frank James. He is not mentioned jumping the gulch along with his brother, leading Fanebust to wonder why Frank James didn't get the same credit his more famous sibling did. Fanebust, who researched the event in countless pages of newspapers, books and libraries, said the legend began in the 1920s, when an area newspaper gave an account of an unnamed individual who "showed us the place where Jesse James jumped the channel riding horseback." A year or so later, more articles on the legend followed, and that summer, a W.W. Sanders invited a group of area newspaper men to the site for a tour where he repeated the claim. The story eventually gained more and more fame, to the point that it's still referred to in 2025. Fanebust said the legend, though almost certainly untrue, could have grown out of a true story where Jesse James or both brothers did leap across a creek or similar landmark on horseback during their escape. Over the years, the story grew, the gap became wider and the plunge to the bottom of the canyon deeper, with resident fans of local lore eventually settling on the picturesque setting of Devil's Gulch as the location where the myth took place. There's no solid evidence that it occurred, Fanebust said. But the spectacular mental image of a man on horseback making such a jump in a scenic area — something straight out of a western movie — makes for an enticing story. "Somehow it got built up into this legendary, impossible, leap across Devil's Gulch," Fanebust said. "It's probably nothing that we will ever be able to prove or disprove." The ambiguous nature of the legend hasn't stopped Garretson from embracing the story. Residents still celebrate the notion that maybe, just maybe, James did make the jump with the annual Jesse James Days event, which was held this year on Friday and Saturday, June 13 and 14. The two-day event features street dances, car shows and other entertainment that helps promote the Minnehaha County community of 1,175 people. Carrie Moritz, who co-owns the Garretson Gazette newspaper along with her husband Garrick and also serves as president of the Garretson Commercial Club, which organizes Jesse James Days, said residents look at the legend with a bit of a wink and a nod. Folks know the story is unlikely to be true, at least as it's told today, but that doesn't mean that it isn't fun to talk about. But there are a few facets of local lore that do add some credence to the tale. "Maybe it's just a tall tale that got told," Moritz said. "But we do have documentation from local farmsteads that Jesse stayed at their place. Or that he stole a horse from their farmstead, or what have you. So there is known evidence that he and his brother were around here. But as for outrunning the posse and jumping the gulch? Who knows." There are other angles that could support the theory. Moritz noted that over the course of 150 years the landscape of the gulch has changed. Erosion has likely widened the gap to its present width, meaning that if James did jump the gulch all those years ago, it was likely not as wide a jump as it appears today. She also said the land where Devil's Gulch rests, which is owned by the Wiese family and leased to the city for public use, was not always densely packed with trees. The trees that add so much to the beauty of the area were planted by the family sometime in the mid-20th century. This means James' jump may have been both much shorter and had a much smoother leadup to the jump than is there today. "It looks like old-growth forest, but it's not," Moritz said. As for where Frank was during Jesse's legendary jump? Moritz said it has been posited that Jesse temporarily stashed his brother in a cave a ways up north on Split Rock Creek and then went on a ride to distract the posse from their underground hideout, which would explain Frank's absence from the legend. That cave is now collapsed, Moritz said, but it was a popular spot for adventurous kids to explore in the 1950s. Whether or not James successfully jumped Devil's Gulch — or another anonymous span of creek somewhere miles away — Jesse and Frank James did eventually make their way back to Missouri without being cornered by the posse. Jesse James was eventually killed by Robert Ford in 1882, and Frank James surrendered to authorities shortly after. He lived a quieter life after his brother's death, leaving the criminal world and working a variety of odd jobs. He died in 1915. But their legacy as old West outlaws lives on, particularly in places like Garretson, where visitors come by the thousands for Jesse James Days in the summer. Moritz said the celebration is a fun time that promotes the community, offers a wide range of activities and entertainment and brings all-important dollars into the local economy. "It does make a huge financial impact, and that's part of the reason it's put on by the Garretson Commercial Club," Moritz said. "That's how you get tourism money, and that's always the goal — to get people to come to town, enjoy the atmosphere we've got around here and just realize that we've got a great little town here." Whether his infamous jump over Devil's Gulch actually occurred continues to be debated. Fanebust said the uncertainty of exactly what happened is part of the appeal of the story, and the myth is not likely to die out. The story serves to spur interest among the public on the Wild West and its expansive mythology, and he said interest in the topic can lead to the study of other historical stories that are just as interesting but can also be proven to be true. Believing the Devil's Gulch legend may require a leap of faith, but Fanebust said the event will likely continue on long into the future. And there's nothing wrong with that, he said. "It is a legend with a long life, and it is an integral part of the story of the great escape by the James brothers," Fanebust wrote in a summary of the events. "There is no point in trying to drive a stake through it, because it can't be killed. Somewhere out there someone might find an answer, a rational explanation for an issue that seems to be pleading for closure. But then again, maybe not. Maybe, just maybe, the romance of history has a legitimate place in this outlaw narrative alongside plain, dull facts."
Yahoo
11-06-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Politically tied loan request awaits state panel's decision
PIERRE, S.D. (KELO) — A Sioux Falls-based business that has significant political connections to the highest levels of South Dakota state government is seeking a $1.2 million low-interest loan from the state Board of Economic Development. The board on Wednesday delayed a decision on the REDI loan application, however, until after CoAxis Energy Company can provide additional information to the Governor's Office of Economic Development that the board has requested. The board operates as the decision-making arm of GOED. CoAxis is a liquid natural gas supplier and system designer. Its president is Scott Stern. He was GOED commissioner during the latter years of the Daugaard administration and is president of family-owned Stern Oil Company, based in Freeman. Cheyenne River Reservation authorities investigating 2 deaths Among others listed on the CoAxis website's leadership page is Dennis Daugaard, who served as South Dakota governor from 2011 through 2018. Daugaard appointed Stern in 2016 as GOED commissioner. Stern stepped down in November 2018 as Daugaard's time as governor came to a close. A business record on file at the South Dakota Secretary of State office shows that Stern established CoAxis in 2019, the year after he had returned to the private sector. The CoAxis vice president is Trent Arlint. He is married to Republican Rep. Amber Arlint. Stern is her father. Two of the state board's members, chair Jeff Erickson of Sioux Falls and Joy Nelson of Watertown, recused themselves from the discussion during the teleconference on Wednesday. Erickson said they serve on the board of directors for a bank that may be participating. Erickson, Nelson and Daugaard are directors for American Bank & Trust. Erickson and Daugaard have also been involved with Standard Trust, a Sioux Falls-based investment company. Gov. Larry Rhoden appointed Daugaard's son-in-law, Tony Venhuizen, as lieutenant governor earlier this year. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
Yahoo
07-06-2025
- Sport
- Yahoo
Alex Post: Aspiring, inspirational swimmer
BROOKINGS, SD (KELO) — There are no lazy summer afternoons lounging by the pool for a Brookings man. Instead, Alex Post is jumping into the water as part of his training to become a world-class swimmer. Oldham-Ramona-Rutland School Board facing a lawsuit His rigorous workouts are an inspiration to others who may be facing challenges of their own. Post swims dozens of laps in the pool at the Miller Wellness Center at SDSU. 'Very exhausting. Especially if I do about half of them are backstrokes, the rest is more of the butterflies and that's a lot harder for me,' Post said. Post is constantly trying to improve his time. 'I could swim in a 25-meter, I think my best time is 45-seconds, which is really good for a guy like me,' Post said. Post, 24, has been swimming for much of his life. But just a couple months ago, he discovered he could swim without a life jacket. And that would plunge him into uncharted waters. 'At first, I was afraid to swim. I thought I was going to drown. And so, I finally had to get past that fear and just do it,' Post said. You see, he swims without any legs. 'I was born with the rare genetic disease called arthrogryposis which affects muscle and bone,' Post said. A dozen years ago, Post decided to have his legs surgically removed. 'A lot of my joints are frozen into place. They can't move and so I knew I was never going to be able to walk with my legs so I told my parents I wanted to remove my legs,' Post said. Now he aspires to compete in the Paralympic Games in Los Angeles in 2028. But first, he'll have to compete in preliminary events at the regional and national level. Whenever Post is in the water, he's overflowing with confidence. 'He's driven, super-outgoing, confident and then the biggest thing is he's reliable. Every day he wants to get better,' Post's coach and caregiver Scott Ault said. South Dakota's fall pheasant outlook is 'very positive' 'I push myself and it gets tough sometimes because the muscles hurt. Everything's going to hurt and I know that I'm going to get there,' Post said. Post is staying in his lane in pursuing his paralympic dream. But he's looking beyond his own ambitions to bring hope to others. 'I'm not just trying to inspire people with disabilities. But people that think they're not good enough in life, that want to give up and I just want to show people there's no point in giving up, there's something that you can do,' Post said. Leaving a legacy of determination and drive in his wake. 'One of the things my mother always said was: you shoot for the moon and if you don't get there, you'll still fall amongst the stars. And that's Alex in a nutshell,' Ault said. Post is a client of Right at Home In-Home Care & Assistance. The Sioux Falls-based company is sponsoring his Paralympics quest. He is looking for additional help. If you'd like to be a sponsor, we have a link to his Facebook page. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
Yahoo
14-05-2025
- Yahoo
'It happens here,' Call to Freedom director says of human trafficking
May 13—MITCHELL — Five clients of Call to Freedom from Mitchell. Countless more across South Dakota. And for Davison County Sheriff Steve Harr, a case that still sticks in his mind, where justice never came. This stark reality was shared Tuesday afternoon at the Mitchell Lions Club meeting, where members heard from Call to Freedom, a Sioux Falls-based nonprofit that has worked with survivors of human trafficking across the state since 2016. "Human trafficking is a reality in South Dakota," said Rachel Schartz, director of impact and program relations with Call to Freedom. "It happens in every community in South Dakota. And until we educate ourselves and become aware, take our heads out of the sand, we'll never be able to solve this issue." Since its founding, Call to Freedom says it has served more than 1,500 clients — many of whom are from smaller, rural communities like Mitchell. The organization has worked in 61 of the state's 66 counties, providing support to individuals statewide. In 2023, Call to Freedom provided assistance to a record 527 individuals. The event was organized by District 20 Sen. Paul Miskimins, a former Lions Club president, who invited Schartz after hearing her speak at the South Dakota Lions convention earlier this year. He hoped the presentation would raise awareness about human trafficking in the state and the resources available for those impacted. "I brought her here to share about human trafficking and what they're doing to help those who have been impacted," Miskimins said. "When you're in the legislature, you have an opportunity to do good — to help others and to try to build a better future for people in South Dakota." Among those listening to Schartz's presentation were Sheriff Steve Harr and Chief Deputy Tim Reitzel, both of whom have worked closely with Call to Freedom, referring individuals in need of support. Schartz confirmed that at least five clients of Call to Freedom have come from Mitchell. Harr added that while some cases might not have been officially labeled as trafficking, several over the years, including one particularly memorable case, likely fit under that umbrella. "Unfortunately, none of those cases ever moved far enough along in the legal process to find justice," Harr said. Schartz explained that getting trafficking cases to court is a persistent challenge. Victims often don't recognize themselves as victims, especially when manipulation or coercion is involved, sometimes by close family members or trusted acquaintances. Fear of retaliation and a distrust of the system also prevent many from speaking out. "The reality is that human trafficking doesn't always look like what you might expect. It can be someone you know, a family member, or even a trusted friend," Schartz said. "That's why it's so hard to get these cases to a place where we can prosecute them." A new state law, set to take effect on July 1, is seen as a potential game-changer in addressing these challenges. Previously, individuals convicted of trafficking could have their entire sentence suspended, allowing traffickers to avoid serving time. The new law aligns South Dakota's sentencing guidelines with federal law, eliminating the option for suspended sentences in trafficking convictions. This is a critical step in ensuring that those convicted face the full consequences of their actions. "I'm glad the new legislation will be in place should we ever need it," Harr said. Schartz believes the law will serve as a valuable tool in combating trafficking in the future, sending a stronger message that South Dakota will not tolerate trafficking. Since its founding in 2016, Call to Freedom has helped survivors rebuild their lives. Its new facility in Sioux Falls, which opened in late April, is designed to better meet the needs of survivors. The facility features expanded services, including therapy rooms, emergency supplies, a clothing boutique, and more space for training and volunteer activities. Schartz emphasized that many people still believe human trafficking only occurs in large cities or involves international smuggling, but that's not the case. Victims can be trafficked locally, and many are manipulated or coerced into exploitative situations by those closest to them. "Too often, young people are exchanging inappropriate material with someone they believe to be a peer, when in reality, it's an adult manipulating the situation," Schartz said. "This is one of the many ways traffickers exploit vulnerabilities and take advantage of our youth." Schartz also discussed how trafficking can be difficult to identify. Survivors may not always show visible signs of abuse, and the trauma can affect every aspect of their lives, from their mental health to their physical well-being. She advised the Lions Club members to trust their instincts when encountering situations that feel wrong. "If you suspect someone might be involved in trafficking, trust your gut," she said. "It's not always easy to spot, but if something feels off, don't ignore it." The discussion also touched on prevention efforts, with Call to Freedom working to educate communities about trafficking and provide resources for individuals who may be at risk. The organization collaborates closely with law enforcement, medical professionals, and social services to intervene quickly when trafficking situations are identified. "We need more than just awareness," Schartz said. "We need action, education, and resources to support these survivors." Miskimins, reflecting on the day's discussion, reminded the group of the importance of continuing to shine a light on difficult issues like human trafficking. "Cherish your victories," Miskimins said. "Because you can't win all the time and sometimes it's a tragedy and it hurts. But when you make a difference, those are the ones you've got to hold on to."
Yahoo
27-04-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
Speaking the same language: Opioid programs connect overdose victims with recovered mentors
Cameron Nielson is a 27-year-old Sioux Falls resident in recovery from opioid use disorder. (Makenzie Huber/South Dakota Searchlight) Shame consumed Cameron Nielson as he lay curled and shaking on an emergency room bed. Nurses shouldn't have to rush to care for him, he thought. Other patients deserved attention more than him. This was his seventh relapse. His mother drove him to the emergency room with severe withdrawal symptoms from opioids and Xanax last summer after his drugs were stolen from his safe, he said. Medicine for opioid use saves lives. But SD doctors hesitate to prescribe it, advocates say. SD uses portion of opioid settlement funds to distribute overdose prevention kits 'I hated myself,' the 27-year-old Sioux Falls resident remembered. He accepted medication from one of the nurses to stop the withdrawal symptoms. His head was clearer and he could fall asleep, but the shame remained. Vanessa Needles entered the room after he woke up. She wasn't a nurse, but a peer support specialist meant to connect Nielson to resources. His shame turned to embarrassment, but it soon became gratitude for the medical staff and Needles. Needles spoke his language in a way the nurses and doctors surrounding him couldn't. She overdosed once herself and struggled with alcohol use, eventually leading to a car crash that killed her coworker in 2017. Needles and Nielson started experimenting with drugs and alcohol around 14 years old. They'd both done things and treated their loved ones in ways they regret. He wasn't alone. Needles, who is seven years sober, offered Nielson grace. 'When you're trying to get off of it, the littlest thing makes the biggest difference,' Nielson told South Dakota Searchlight. 'The most valuable thing is having someone understand what you're going through.' Needles is one of nine peer support specialists in eastern South Dakota with Sioux Falls-based nonprofit Emily's Hope. Their work is part of a pilot program overseen by the state Department of Social Services and launched in January 2024 to reduce overdoses by providing 'essential supports and strengthening connections' to local resources, according to a statement from the department. Rapid City-based Project Recovery piloted the program in western South Dakota. The pilots are funded by national opioid settlement dollars, costing $346,445. The national opioid settlement was reached in 2021 to resolve opioid litigation against the country's three largest pharmaceutical distributors and one manufacturer. More than $50 billion in settlement funds are being delivered to state and local governments from the companies accused of flooding communities with opioid painkillers even though they allegedly knew how addictive and deadly the drugs were. South Dakota is set to receive $54 million of settlement funding within the next two decades. The department plans to continue funding the program with settlement dollars through 2029, based on a plan presented to the opioid advisory council in April. The two organizations received a combined 34 referrals since the program's launch and connected with 26 people to provide resources. Between 2016 and 2020, there were more than 2,400 drug-related hospitalizations and 684 drug-related deaths in South Dakota. Angela Kennecke, founder and CEO of Emily's Hope, said the organization works closely with emergency room departments for referrals. Sometimes the initial contact yields later results. One woman who ended communication with a peer support specialist last year picked communication back up this year to seek help. 'I always say a seed is planted,' Kennecke said. 'Even if they don't go into treatment immediately or they don't go on medication and get the help they need, a seed has been planted that there is someone there to help them when they're ready.' Kennecke's daughter, Emily, died of a fentanyl overdose, laced in heroin she injected. Her family was planning to enroll her into a treatment program when she died in May 2018. Project Recovery has found most of its success working with Rapid City's Fusion Center, which is a law enforcement task force. The clinic receives referrals based on overdose data collected by law enforcement. Kendra Joswiak, clinical practice director at Project Recovery, said her response team connected with 82% of activations, 56% of which continue to be engaged in addiction service treatments. Needles, a 30-year-old mother of two — soon to be three — served as a peer support specialist for years in other capacities before working with Emily's Hope to meet with overdose victims in the emergency room. She's previously talked with people struggling with substance use on the street, and she's shared her story with jail inmates. The program bridges gaps in South Dakota's behavioral health infrastructure, she said. It also destigmatizes substance use within the medical profession and in the community, and gives a sense of purpose to those in recovery. 'By helping someone stay sober, I stay sober another day,' Needles said. 'I can stand in front of them and tell them that this is scary and sh—y, but that it's going to get better.' Peer support specialists with Emily's Hope receive a group text when an overdose victim arrives at a Sioux Falls-area hospital. Whoever is available goes, Needles said. Most of the time, people have already checked out of the hospital before a specialist arrives. She remembers when she overdosed a decade ago, and she left the hospital as soon as she could because she was scared. She needed to cope with her emotions, and the only way she knew how was to use again. She and other peer support specialists will follow up with patients after they leave the hospital, dropping off bags of fentanyl test strips or medication to prevent overdose. She'll hand them to the patient, parents or spouses — whoever she can find. After Nielson was admitted to the hospital and into a treatment program through Avera Health, Needles joined him each Friday. She checks in on him to see how he's feeling and has taken him to support meetings since he completed treatment. She sent him a coin and card when he reached three months of sobriety late last year. CONTACT US Nielson is eight months sober. He's taking a Suboxone prescription to eliminate cravings, and he feels more like himself, he said. He started reading again, hasn't missed a day of work and spends time with his 3-year-old son each week. It's something he couldn't have dreamed of a decade ago. Needles' guidance and support reminds Nielson he's not alone and what he's capable of achieving. 'Besides Vanessa, I don't have another person to talk to regularly who knows what I'm going through or is sober,' Nielson said. 'It can kind of get lonely after you cut off every friend you had, since they were all part of my addiction.' One relationship isn't a lot, but it's a start, Needles said. She hopes as others learn about medications for opioid use disorder and about efforts to curb overdose deaths in the state, overdose response teams will be able to reach more people. 'Everybody deserves a little bit of grace,' Needles said. 'We're all struggling one way or another.' SUBSCRIBE: GET THE MORNING HEADLINES DELIVERED TO YOUR INBOX
