Fake massacres, wagon trail part of Almo history

ALMO, Idaho (AP) - Arlo Lloyd reached down and picked up a cobblestone off the California Trail.

"Have you ever seen a 'bruised rock?'" he asked.

The surface of the rock Lloyd held was covered with traces of rusted iron - "bruises" left by wagon-wheel rims that scraped the rock 150 years ago.

The paths that thousands of pioneers followed as they passed through southern Cassia County are barely discernable to the untrained eye, "but I've got to where I can spot these old roads pretty easy," Lloyd said.

Sagebrush is nearly as sparse as people on this high desert. But it grows a little thicker and greener along narrow wagon ruts, where for decades thousands of oxen worked their natural fertilizer into the soil.

A California Trail marker stands along the ruts south of the tiny town of Almo, a modern confirmation of the historic highway.

Lloyd, a 78-year-old well driller, has lived around here all his life. He knows every nook and cranny of the surrounding landscape.

He knows just about every person living here, and said he's related to most of them.

Almo lies in the evening shade of the Albion Mountain Range. Near 10,000 feet, Cache Peak, Mount Independence and Mount Harrison are Idaho's three highest peaks south of the Snake River.

The Silent City of Rocks National Preserve is five miles southwest of town, and the northern border of Utah is just eight miles south.

Burley, the closest "big" town, is 30 miles north of Almo as the crow flies. But it's a much farther drive, almost an hour long, around the mountain.

"Almo is a very quiet place," said Wallace Keck, park superintendent of the City of Rocks and Castle Rocks State Park. "In the winter, it's quaint."

But during the summer, Almo comes alive with tourists. Several hundred thousand visitors go through town on their way to the two scenic rock-climbing destinations, Keck said.

There are some 50 people that live in the "Almo cluster" - the would-be town site, if there were city limits. Another 150 people in the valley call Almo home.

"But you wouldn't know there's that many when you drive into town," Keck said.

Most people live on cattle ranches, and those are spread far apart.

"The cattle industry drives the local economy," he said.

And it always has.

The names of today's Almo residents are nearly as old as the pioneer trails that crisscross the valley.

Pony Express rider Thomas Owen King rode through this country before it had a name. In 1860, the 20-year-old man was said to have ridden 200 miles in 24 hours, changing horses at express stations along the way.

Arlo Lloyd's wife, Bonnier, is King's great-granddaughter.

King liked what he saw when he rode through southern Idaho, and he soon came back with cattle, Lloyd said. King was one of the first to settle here and grazed his herd on the high desert east of the mountain range.

Sheep ranchers and cattlemen, mostly Mormon, quickly followed: Ward, Durfee, Jones, Lloyd, Eames and Tracy. Today, most of the students at Almo school bear their names.

King was a Mormon, and became the bishop of the Almo church. He was elected Cassia County commissioner in 1884, but never took office because he refused to take the required oath stating that he was not a Mormon, according to early county records.

Cassia County claims more miles of pioneer trails than any other county in the nation. The Old Oregon Trail split near Raft River at what was called "the Parting of the Ways." The main Oregon Trail followed the Snake River west, while alternative routes of the Oregon, California and Mormon trails headed south through the Almo Valley.

Skirmishes with Native Americans were not unheard of along the trails, but the most notorious of the battles in this area probably never happened.

Next door to the Almo School and across Main Street from the Tracy General Store stands a monument to the Almo Creek Massacre. Legend has it that Northern Shoshoni warriors under Chief Pocatello attacked a wagon train in 1861 and killed nearly 300 westbound settlers here.

Most historians dismiss the so-called massacre as a publicity stunt. Some have called for the removal of the monument, which was erected more than 75 years ago by the "Sons and Daughters of Idaho Pioneers."

"Almo, Idaho, boasts the most deceitful historical marker in the United States," writes historian James Loewen, author of "Lies Across America."

Those are fighting words to some in town.

They say the town even got its name from the battle - a throwback to the 1836 Battle of the Alamo in Texas.

But others in town tend to believe the historians.

Bill Jones, whose grandparents homesteaded here, said he grew up hearing how Indians cut off the wagon train from water and held the pioneers at bay for days. According to legend, only a handful of emigrants survived.

But Jones, 82, said he thinks "someone got over-anxious" when they erected the monument in 1938. No newspaper articles confirming the attack were ever written.

"That's because there were no newspapers here," said 83-year-old Phyllis Tracy.

Life today revolves around home and family, and that means school, church and cattle.

"Most of the moms here spend their time running kids around," Tracy said.

Almo Elementary School has one full-time teacher, Martin Beyler, and 10 students, grades K-3. Older students attend school in Malta, more than 20 miles away. So do students from Elba, Juniper, Sublett and Yost, Utah.

Children will move away, but many return, said Bill Jones.

There's a simple reason why people stay in Almo.

"It's home," Jones said. "There's no place like home, you see."