You could smell it all over downtown. If you were lucky, or unlucky if you were hungry, the enticing aroma wafted into the neighborhoods to the south of Main Street on the prevailing north wind.
It was the smell of Charlie “Pop” Logan’s popcorn.
Charlie Edward Logan was born on April 5, 1884. His future wife, Alga Gibson, came to Riverton on a Chicago North Western passenger train in late 1906. Her older brother Orion traveled west from Missouri on one of the first CN&W trains to Shoshoni in the late spring of 1906. From there, he and his mentor Judge P.C. Stepp took a wagon onto the soon-to-be ceded homesteading site and saw its potential.
Orion registered for the land drawing and was the ninth draw in the ensuing land lottery. Orion Nash Gibson had secured 160 acres that would someday encompass modern Riverton from Sunset Boulevard north to Webbwood Road, the area of Eastview and Westview Drives, Broadway, and the “animals” Moose, Deer, and Elk Drives.
Orion Gibson was legally blind. He had some limited vision but was too visually impaired to farm the dry sagebrush of his claim. Trained as a lawyer, he began practicing in Riverton and sent for his family. His brother William, cousin Henry Gibson, and his younger sister Alga all moved to Riverton from Missouri to work on the farm.
It was at the farm that Charlie Logan met Alga Gibson. Charlie came to Riverton to work as a dispatcher at the Chicago North Western Depot in 1912. He met Alga, the 21-year-old sister of Orion Gibson, and a budding romance began.
By 1914, they were married and moved into a new five-bedroom house on the corner northwest corner of Broadway and Sunset.
It was a cozy arrangement with Orion, Henry, another sister, Fannie, and the newlywed Charlie and Alga Logan all living under the same roof.
Charlie ran a narrow rope from the house to Orion’s office, and in winter, he pulled a shallow ditch so Orion could find his way home in the snow.
Though he suffered from impaired vision, it didn’t affect his prowess as an attorney. Orion represented homesteading farmers just like himself against the questionable actions of the Wyoming Central Irrigation Company, which promised a lot but didn’t deliver much. It was Orion Nash Gibson who took the homesteader’s case all the way to Washington, D.C. and won, eventually bringing irrigation water to the ceded area.
Charlie began farming Orion’s homestead, eventually taking ownership. Orion Nash Gibson was 60 years old when he passed on April 18, 1933.
Charlie took over the farm, buying out his relatives. He and Alga had five children: Charles Jr., who died in infancy, then Edward, Malcolm, Jac, and Mary Elizabeth.
Charlie had a varied operation, raising oats, barley, and corn, and putting up grass and alfalfa hay. He had a small band of sheep and a few head of cattle.
The Great Depression was rougher on farmers in the Midwest and Mountain States than on any other region of the United States. Agricultural prices had already plummeted from booming markets during and shortly after World War I, and they only got worse after Black Friday in 1929.
Charlie Logan was an intelligent man who could anticipate and adapt when others could not.
He plowed up sections of his alfalfa field and began growing vegetables. Truck farming is labor-intensive and requires careful watering to get crops such as tomatoes, onions, peppers, lettuce, cabbage, and melons to produce in the arid Wyoming climate, but Charlie was never afraid of work, and his imaginative methods generated bumper crops.
He sold the excess produce in Riverton and around Fremont County, supplying many small stores with seasonal produce. Alga canned enough for their family to survive through the winters.
Charlie began to experiment with popcorn.
Popcorn is an indigenous treat first credited to Native Americans along the East Coast. Early Europeans were introduced to the tasty snack in the 16th century. Popcorn dates back nearly 5,000 years, but first gained widespread popularity with the invention of steam-powered popcorn carts in the 1880s.
The connection between popcorn and the movies didn’t happen overnight. Theater owners resisted bringing popcorn into their theaters since it was often spilled, could be greasy, and sometimes left stains on carpet and seats. Plus, it was noisy.
That all changed with the simultaneous arrival of talking pictures and the Great Depression in the 1930s.
Charlie Logan, a well-read, intelligent man, noted the trends and saw an opportunity to grow and distribute popcorn around Wyoming and neighboring states.
Popcorn varieties require a growing season of 90 to 120 days. In Wyoming’s arid, often frigid climate, it is far from certain with frost coming as late as June in some years and as early as August.
The dry climate was a benefit, since popcorn must dry to around 14% moisture to pop, Wyoming popcorn had an advantage over more humid growing regions. That was about the only advantage Charlie Logan had in experimenting with it.
He developed a black kernel popcorn named Black Beauty. Its kernels were glossy black, but it popped fluffy white.
“Black Beauty had a little black dot in the kernel of corn,” Charlie Logan’s granddaughter Linda Sims said. “There was a time when one of my relatives had an inch full of kernels, but we lost it. Unfortunately, his popcorn is gone.”
Logan began canning his popcorn and distributing it. It became his most successful crop, but events far away crippled his shipping business.
After the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, American industry went into wartime production. Shortages on the home front became common, including the availability of tin cans. Logan couldn’t get metal cans; plastic containers were in the future, and paper was as carefully controlled as tin was.
Once again displaying his ingenuity and intelligence, Charlie built a popcorn wagon on the chassis of a Star, built by the short-lived Durant Motor Company, and began selling popcorn on Saturday afternoons before the matinees at Belle Mote’s Acme Theater.
There was a vacant lot where Kusel’s Gambles now stands until the Woolworth’s Store was built in 1964.
Belle didn’t have a popcorn machine at the concession stand; that came later when Tom Knight purchased the Acme.
Charlie added caramel corn to his menu after paying the Jolly Time Popcorn Company $75 for their “secret recipe.”
Buttered, unbuttered, salted, unsalted, or caramel, it was all delicious and became a mainstay for Riverton moviegoers every Saturday afternoon. Charlie soon extended his hours to Saturday evenings as well.
The original paper bags Charlie used to sell his popcorn were taken inside the Acme. Boisterous teenage boys, especially, would finish their popcorn, twist the top of the bag tight, and then pop the air-filled bags like paper balloons. It annoyed Belle, and later Tom greatly. The practice also led to Charlie’s new nickname, “Pop” Logan.
Charlie thwarted the rambunctious teenagers by shelving the old-style bags and purchasing new, softer, noiseless sacks that wouldn’t pop.
From around 1943 until almost 1960, “Pop” Logan was a fixture on Saturdays, at the Fremont County Fair, at parades, rodeos, and home football games for the Wolverines at Tonkin Stadium on West Main.
In her later years, Alga suffered horribly from rheumatoid arthritis. She passed away in 1949.
Riverton was just a small agricultural town before the uranium boom began in the 1950s.
“Linda’s dad, Edward Charles Logan, would ride the horse to high school and the horse would walk back home,” Linda’s husband, Gary Sims, said.
On Halloween, kids could always count on getting a free bag of popcorn from “Pop” Logan. One year, he gave away 350 bags of it.
In failing health, Charlie stopped growing or selling popcorn. He sold his farm to a contractor and developer, Ed Teeter. Teeter developed the housing project that became known as Logan Park. For many years, there was a Logan Park on the west side of North Broadway, but the city eventually renamed it Teeter Park. T-ball baseball games were played there for many years.
Charlie “Pop” Logan passed away in 1960. He was 76 years old.
“It still irritates me that they changed the name,” Linda said.
His children donated his popcorn wagon to the Methodist Church after his death. Teenagers sometimes used it at football games.
It was eventually donated to the Riverton Museum in the 1980s, where it now resides, fully restored.
Many older Fremont County residents still have fond memories of Pop Logan as a kind, generous man who never turned his back on a stranger or anyone in need.
“I’m sure the red and white striped sacks held no more than a box of popcorn from the Acme, but I’m sure he undercut Tom Knight’s price by at least a nickel. Logan did have plain brown paper sacks at one time, which could have been larger or at least wider. I associate the brown ones with the long lines for movies at the Acme and the red and white ones with the football games, but that’s probably just a side effect of memory,” John Glade wrote in a social media post.
“I remember Pop Logan’s stand on the corner. Blue Star Taxi, owned by the Verly’s, was on the corner, and next to it was Tony Jordinelli Bar’s, and Roy E Hayes & Company was across the street. I remember back in the late 40’s, early 50’s, the grocery stores stayed open until around 9 so the farmers could get their work done and come to town and shop for groceries, and yes, Pop Logan did use great big brown paper sacks to put his popcorn in. The bags were so big you could not hide them under your coat to sneak them into the theater,” wrote Michael Smith.
The original farmhouse was moved to Dubois.
Dee Samuelson built a duplex on the property.
Gary took his late grandfather-in-law’s popcorn wagon to the post office, where he served as postmaster one day, with tremendous results.
“I took it to the post office once and was giving away popcorn by the ton,” Gary said. “When he sold his farm, he was such a nice guy that he lent people money on a handshake; most never paid it back. He basically gave away his farm.”
People make their mark in the world in different ways. Charlie Logan made his through kindness, generosity and quick wit with a heavy dose of hard work and intelligence. When the wind is just right, long-time citizens of Riverton claim you can still catch the scent of his popcorn on the breeze.