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" You need a Bowie knife to get in this place and a chainsaw to get out," by 84fiero123
Started on: 06-30-2014 09:28 AM
Replies: 5 (157 views)
Last post by: Marvin McInnis on 07-01-2014 10:19 AM
84fiero123
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Report this Post06-30-2014 09:28 AM Click Here to See the Profile for 84fiero123Click Here to Email 84fiero123Send a Private Message to 84fiero123Edit/Delete MessageReply w/QuoteDirect Link to This Post
Sounds like I have been there before ! Anyone interested in buying a town? Maybe we could change the name to fieroville and have gatherings there, it does have a shop and most important,
,
,
,
,
,
A Bar !

For our gatherings of course,

Have you ever dreamed of owning your own town, or just taking a ride around town knowing all you see is really yours?

This month, if you’ve got a spare $400,000 lying around, that dream could be a reality.

Lance Benson, the sole owner of Swett, an unincorporated hamlet in Bennett County about two hours southeast of Rapid City, is putting the whole town up for grabs: including its bar, workshop, three trailers, single house, and 6.16 acres of prime prairie real estate.

Benson, the owner of a travelling concession business, said that while he would love to keep the town, he wanted to focus on his core business.

"Like I say, I hate to get rid of it," said Benson, who listed his town for sale with Rapid City real estate agent Stacie Montgomery last week. "If I don't sell it, if I don't sell it this first year, I would probably keep it."

Like many rural towns in America, Swett has shrunk dramatically over the past century as its inhabitants migrated to urban centers. Once a town of about 40 people in the 1940s — with a post office, a few houses, and a grocery store — the town now stands as little more than a few ramshackle buildings along U.S. Highway 18.

Ownership of property in the town concentrated during that decline, eventually falling to a single person. The town changed hands a few times before Benson bought it in 1998. He signed it over to his ex-wife in a divorce, but reclaimed the town around 2012.

Today, with Benson and his new wife living in a house beside the Swett Tavern, the town's population officially stands at two.

"And Daisy, that makes three," joked Wayne Witt, a friend of Benson's, referring to the couple's rottweiler mix.

But although the town's fortunes have waned, its tavern has remained its beating heart. As the only watering hole in a 10-mile radius, the Swett Tavern is still the defacto gathering place for a small army of local cowboys and wheatgrowers.

On Thursday, the beer was flowing and the pool cues were well-chalked as a family of horse-trainers from Batesland sought refuge from the afternoon heat.

"This place is pretty much where the highway ends and the Wild West begins," joked 47-year old Gerry Runnels, his fingers wrapped around a cold bottle of Budweiser.

Runnels is a third generation patron at the Swett Tavern. It was at this bar that his grandfather drank, where his father would wile away the hours playing Keno, and where, at age seven, barely able to see over the table's edge, Runnels learned to play pool.

Although Runnels has watched ownership of the town change over the years, its bar has always maintained a distinctly local veneer; a place where cowboy hats are de rigueur and rusted wagon wheels adorn the front facade.

It's a legacy that also, at times, has included a reputation for attracting rough customers. Runnels still remembers the words of an Oklahoman, traveling through the area, who stopped by for a drink.

"He said you need a Bowie knife to get in this place and a chainsaw to get out," Runnels said with a laugh.

Fortunately, under Benson's ownership,the Swett Tavern has cleaned up its image in recent years.

"It's now kind of a place you can come in and have a meal with your family rather than defend your family," said Ray Runnels, Gerry's 27-year old nephew, who sat at the bar with a tequila sunrise.

Although the atmosphere might be friendlier in the bar, whether the town sells or doesn't sell, at least these locals hope it doesn't lose its Western charm.

Gerry Runnels, downing the last drops of his Budwesier, still laughs at the memory of another man, a refined friend from Seattle, who he first introduced to the Swett Tavern.

"He said, 'this looks like a good place to be killed'. And I said, 'you could be killed anywhere, Randy. You could get killed at home feeding your furless cats, at least here it will be exciting'."

http://rapidcityjournal.com...14-035fe1b87b85.html

The actual listing is here with some pictures of the town,

http://www.coldwellbankerra...BlackHillsSD/118868/

Lets see Don could be our sheriff, Can anyone think of a tougher one. You got to admit he's got that Marlboro man look down.

I volunteer to be the town drunk, not really qualified as anything else nowadays.

I figure if we all throw in a few bucks with our membership it would be less than a hundred each, we could buy the town in a heartbeat .



Anyone?

Steve

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maryjane
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Report this Post06-30-2014 09:52 AM Click Here to See the Profile for maryjaneSend a Private Message to maryjaneEdit/Delete MessageReply w/QuoteDirect Link to This Post
In my squandered youth, I used to go to a place called "The Bucket of Blood Bar" on the bad side of Memphis (is there a good side?) and if you didn't have a knife when you entered they'd give ya one when you walked in the door. Big sign over the pool table "take the fights out back--we're tired of cleaning up after you--KEEP THE BLOOD OFF THE POOL TABLES!!".
Good times tho.
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84fiero123
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Report this Post06-30-2014 10:04 AM Click Here to See the Profile for 84fiero123Click Here to Email 84fiero123Send a Private Message to 84fiero123Edit/Delete MessageReply w/QuoteDirect Link to This Post
 
quote
Originally posted by maryjane:

In my squandered youth, I used to go to a place called "The Bucket of Blood Bar" on the bad side of Memphis (is there a good side?) and if you didn't have a knife when you entered they'd give ya one when you walked in the door. Big sign over the pool table "take the fights out back--we're tired of cleaning up after you--KEEP THE BLOOD OFF THE POOL TABLES!!".
Good times tho.


We had a bar in the next town over when I lived in Worcester, that had the name, "Uncle Fred's" nothing to look at on the outside and not that big but when you went inside they had chicken wire in front of the band stand, not a good sign when there is chicken wire in front of the bandstand ! We got there about 10 PM and it was nothing really bad, but come about midnight the place really livened up, to say the least you really could have used a chainsaw to get out of the place. Ah the good old days !

Steve
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Zeb
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Report this Post06-30-2014 10:22 AM Click Here to See the Profile for ZebSend a Private Message to ZebEdit/Delete MessageReply w/QuoteDirect Link to This Post
 
quote
Originally posted by 84fiero123:

'this looks like a good place to be killed'. And I said, 'you could be killed anywhere, Randy. You could get killed at home feeding your furless cats, at least here it will be exciting'."



As long as its not too long before my appointed time, "exciting" sounds okay to me. When my grandchildren ask "Whatever happened to Grandpa?" I want my kids to have a story they won't forget.
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MidEngineManiac
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Report this Post06-30-2014 10:31 AM Click Here to See the Profile for MidEngineManiacSend a Private Message to MidEngineManiacEdit/Delete MessageReply w/QuoteDirect Link to This Post
Mine was "Hammers" (since burned down) and it looked a LOT inside like the Swett. There was a coat check AND a weapons check booth, with signs that weapons must be checked, and a 20-or-so fleabag motel attached to it. 100 bucks in the 80's went a LONG way in there (and the hospital was only about 10 minutes away for whoever needed it)
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Marvin McInnis
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Report this Post07-01-2014 10:19 AM Click Here to See the Profile for Marvin McInnisClick Here to visit Marvin McInnis's HomePageSend a Private Message to Marvin McInnisEdit/Delete MessageReply w/QuoteDirect Link to This Post
 
quote
Originally posted by MidEngineManiac:

... signs that weapons must be checked ...



That was the norm in Texas at least through the 1960s and early 1970s. At the entrance to even the most upscale restaurants would be a sign: "State law prohibits carrying firearms where alcohol is served or consumed. Please check your guns here."

[This message has been edited by Marvin McInnis (edited 07-01-2014).]

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