If Rongis seems like a strange word, just spell it backward, Signor is the result. The name Rongis came after Eli Signor, the businessman, and rancher with a slightly dark side, attempted to get a post office at his ranch and way station.
John J and Eli Signor were ranchers on the east end of the Sweetwater River, about three miles from present-day Jeffrey City. The cardinal rule for establishing a small town or a rural store was to get a post office adjoining it.
When the Signor brothers filed a request to name their post office Signor, they were denied for unknown reasons. They resubmitted their paperwork with the name reversed, Rongis, and they were approved.
The post office was approved in 1883, but three years later was moved to the Hutchison Ranch at Crooks’ Gap.
The Signor Ranch and the Hutchison Ranch are nine miles apart, but many maps confuse the two locations. As time passed, the Rongis Post Office moved between many ranches on the Sweetwater.
Drunken cowboys were a common occurrence at the Rongis bar which also served as a general store. One murderous episode came in the early autumn of 1888.
Carbon County Journal – September 22, 1888 – “Charlie Davis, a ranch hand, began drinking, and drank freely and became exceedingly noisy, and kept his companions corralled at the bar, forcing them to drink with him. He made the remark to [Eli] Signor during the morning when remonstrated with in regard to his conduct, that he (Signor) better keep quiet, or he would ‘get it.’ Signor, not desiring any trouble, left the bar and went over to the blacksmith shop to help set a tire, leaving one of his men to take charge of the saloon. … Soon, Davis jumped on the billiard table and scuffed up the cloth, then threw the billiard balls around the room, and also broke some of the chairs and other furniture. The man in charge of the bar finally sent for Signor to come and take over before Davis destroyed everything. In the meantime, Signor had put a pistol in his pocket before he went back in the saloon. As he stepped in the door, Davis met Signor and told him to come and take a drink. Signor refused, telling Davis he didn’t want him breaking up any more furniture and instructing him to behave himself.”
A fight ensued, witnesses said Signor shot Davis, apparently in self-defense. The newspaper report continued:
“The act was clearly justifiable. Davis had been flourishing his pistol all morning and kept the crowd in the saloon against their will. Signor made no effort to escape after the shooting. The coroner was sent for, and Davis’ body left lying where it fell. A jury was empaneled, and their verdict was ‘justifiable homicide.’ Davis bore a poor reputation and was considered a bad man. Signor’s reputation as a peaceful, law-abiding citizen has always been first class.”
Many famous people took the stage north from Rawlins. Thomas Edison was one, traveling as far as Bull Springs, where legend has it that he found the answer to a long burning light bulb element in a dream and quickly returned to Menlo Park. Owen Wister, the author of the Western classic The Virginian also took the stage north, but his impression of stagecoach travel was far from romantic.
Wister was traveling to Fort Washakie to meet a hunting guide who would take him into the Wind River Mountains. Here is his description of the stage route.
Owen Wister Diary Excerpt – July 22, 1888 – “The stage company may not make any living for itself, but it assuredly swallows the livings of other people. There were three of us, and we had 400 pounds of extra baggage. For the journey of 150 miles, we paid $86.20. Moreover, you have four horses and a wide Concord stage no longer. Two horses, a narrow stage, and half our baggage left behind to follow us the next day. The express boxes from Chicago [Wister traveled west on the train] had now caught us up … and here we left them behind again, along with all our blankets and all our ammunition.
Altogether, the time between our rising and our departure was a black period. We left Rawlins five in number. The balance [of the party] stayed with our baggage to come when it could. … About six [o’clock] we stopped nowhere in particular with a hot axle. So we grew more and more behind time, and the next driver, who came on about nine or so, when all warmth had gone and the moon shone cold and brittle, was a crank who lost half an hour for each one he drove. My turn on the box outside came about twelve-thirty or later, and that stage was bitter. The driver said he was numb under his coat, and I had no coat. I do remember that the world looked very beautiful in the moonshine, all lines being soft and uncertain and the sagebrush very silver-like—but it was too damned cold for romance and nature. The look of my own shadow sticking out of the shapeless black cast by the stage seemed to lower the temperature.”
There were two Signors at Rongis, Eli and his brother John. Eli went on to manage another stage station two stops towards Lander in later years and was a well-respected man across Fremont County and throughout Wyoming. With John, that just wasn’t the case.
John was suspected of cattle rustling, but not in the Hollywood sense of chasing someone else’s cattle to Mexico or out of the territory to sell. John was a master of the running iron, carefully altering brands to match his own, and frequently branding calves attached to cows from other ranchers.
He went too far one spring a year or two after the devastating winter of 1886-87 that destroyed much of the open-range cattle operations across the west. He was caught red-handed with cattle clearly belonging to someone else and left Rongis in a hurry.
He ended up near Copper Mountain, running the store at Lost Cabin for J.B. Oakie before heading to the oil fields in Bonanza, Wyoming. It was in Bonanza that John died a few years later of pneumonia.
With John out of the picture, it was up to Eli and his family to operate the stage station. That meant cutting and stacking hay, shoeing horses, keeping a supply of repair parts, and managing the store and bar at Rongis.
Aside from the stage and freight business, Rongis was a very active area in cattle and sheep ranching with local ranchers stopping in to get their mail and to pick up a few essentials. It was also one end of the road where robberies most often took place.
The short section between Rongis and Myersville had more than its share of holdups on the trail. Much of that was due to the physical location of the two little communities.
Myersville was a hub, a place where the stage and freighters went north to Lost Cabin or over Birdseye Pass to the Big Horn Basin, or northwest to Lander and Fort Washakie.
Following the Sweetwater to the top of South Pass, and the action at Atlantic City was another route for travelers leaving Rongis.
Travelers and hard-working freighters were honest folk who made Rongis thrive. The thieves that preyed on them enjoyed the many escape routes and the hidden places along the Sweetwater among the towering cottonwoods and willow thickets. Here is a story of one robbery.
Cheyenne Daily Leader – July 3, 1889 –
STAGE HELD UP
A Bold Robber on the Rawlins-Lander Line
Singled Handed He Goes Through the Coach
But Secures Very Little Cash for His Pains
RAWLINS, WYO., July 2 – “Both stages were held up by robbers last night between Crook’s station and Rongis on the Rawlins and Fort Washakie line. Indian Agent Jones’ wife and three children were on board the down coach. The robber cut the mail sacks open.”
RAWLINS, WYO., July 2 – “The southbound stage on the Rawlins Fort Washakie line was held up about 10 o’clock last night near Sweetwater Station. Mrs. Jones, wife of the Indian agent at the Shoshone reservation with her three children were the only passengers. At the command of the robber, she handed out her purse which contained a few dollars in silver, the rest of the money being concealed on her person. The robber demanded the rest of her money but she said she had no more. He then demanded the keys to her trunks but did not open them.
The robber opened the mailbags with the key and turned the contents on the ground, opening all letters and removing all valuables. He secured little for his trouble and after asking numerous questions about when the lawyers would return from court and keeping the driver covered with his pistol till the north coach passed, jumped off and disappeared in the darkness. Deputy Sheriff Avent of Lander, with two of the best Indian trailers from Washakie, are on the trail and the chances are favorable for catching the robber.”
In an interesting twist, reminiscent of modern cable news where the same story can have many different slants depending on the source, another account, also from a Cheyenne Newspaper differed slightly in the narrative.
A STAGE HELD UP
On the Rawlins and Fort Washakie Line
Cheyenne Sun – July 2, 1889 – “The first holdup in the history of the Rawlins and Fort Washakie stage line occurred last night near the Sweetwater bridge. The stage was going up a hill when the driver heard a voice in the darkness commanding him to halt. Mrs. Thomas Jones, wife of the Indian agent at the Shoshone Agency, and her three children were the only passengers. The highwayman commanded her to step out, but she refused, saying he could have her purse, but she would not get out. ‘Hand over your money then,’ the robber replied, and she handed him her purse containing a few silver dollars. After counting the money, the robber demanded the rest, saying he was sure she had more. ‘That is all I have’, said Mrs. Jones. ‘That’s too thin,’ said he. ‘Either hand over the rest or give me the keys and I will find it myself.’ Mrs. Jones then handed him the keys and opened her satchel for him. The robber never opened her trunks, however.”
“All the mail sacks were then opened, and the contents rifled. The sacks were opened with a key. The robber only secured about $40 for his trouble, although it was later learned Mrs. Jones had a large amount on her person. The robber inquired about the country then asked when all the lawyers would be returning from District Court in Lander. He then climbed up on the hind boot of the coach and commanded the driver to drive on.
When he heard the northbound coach approaching, he stopped the coach and jumped off, keeping the driver covered with his pistol. When the two coaches were in speaking distance, he made the driver of the first coach whip up his horses and then disappeared into the darkness.
A deputy sheriff from Lander along with two of the best trailers at Fort Washakie, Yellow Eagle, and Lone Bear, were taken out on the trail, and the robber will have a hard time escaping.”
No matter the amount, whether it was five dollars or 40, the robber was never apprehended.
Robbery wasn’t the only danger faced by drivers and passengers along this primitive route. Accidents occurred frequently, and with the sparse population and vast distances by 19th century standards, each person was often left to their own devices if a problem arrived.
Rongis had travelers heading west from Casper and was a hub for three stage and freight routes.
Bill Barlow’s Budget, a newspaper printed in Douglas printed many stories on the exploits and accidents in the Sweetwater Country.
Contractor Killed
Bill Barlow’s Budget – October 30, 1889 – “Andrew Rutledge, United States mail contractor between Rongis and Lost Cabin in the Big Horn country, was killed Friday by the overturning of his stage down a steep embankment on Canyon Creek. Rutledge was crushed under the heavily loaded stage and instantly killed.”
Poor Mail Service in Big Horn
Bill Barlow’s Budget – March 11, 1891 – Ervay -Feb. 15.- “There has not been a through mail on route No. 64,166, from Casper to Rongis, on schedule time since Jan. 27. One of the carriers left Rongis Feb. 11 with a lock-sack full of mail, came out twelve miles from
Rongis and his horse gave out, and he left the mail and walked in, and the mail has been lying there on the prairie ever since. There has been no mail up from Casper since Feb. 8. There are freight teams passing on the roads all the time and the roads are in good condition. There is no excuse for the mail not coming through.”
Rongis had a tenuous hold as a town, with just a bar, a store, and a post office that moved several times.
The arrival of the Chicago Northwestern railroad in Lander in October 1906 heralded the end of the stage route from the Union Pacific in Rawlins to Fremont County. All the small stage stations began to disappear with the post offices closing, and the general stores and bars soon to follow. The only holdout was Hailey, which lasted until the late 1920s.
OLD SITE OF RONGIS ON SWEETWATER IS PLACED ON RECORDS
Riverton Review – May 19, 1927 – “Two Bridges will be the name under which the Hart Robinson store out on the Rawlins road near Rongis will be opened this year and be hereafter. This more accurately describes the Iocation than Rongis and the real Rongis is the old Signor ranch now owned by Charles Fletcher, the Robinson store is located on Ice Slough between two bridges on the highway and this name naturally describes the location, Rongis as a post office was discontinued last fall possibly for the last, time having had a varied career as to location in the past. It was originally at the Fletcher ranch and operated by Eli Signor. The name was submitted to the post office department as Signor but the name was declined by the department who wished no duplication of names and someone ingeniously suggested that the name be reversed and called Rongis. This was submitted and stuck.”
Rongis gradually faded into memory, but a few remnants still offer hints at what once was. The station, store, and bar are all on private property now, along the Sweetwater a few miles from Jeffrey City.