Reflecting on the changes and history in Byron and Hatch Hill

One day you are noticing some construction going on over at the Hatch place as you drive up Hatch Hill. Where is Hatch Hill? It’s that hill just before the old drive-in. Now I have aged myself, and you may be wondering what kind of drive-in and where. That is how history slips away. 

Heading toward Byron, just after the crossroads formerly known as the Oasis and previous to that Kinks Drive-in, there was a drive-in movie theater. It was packed most weekends and had a snack bar and those poles with speakers you hooked on your car window to listen to the movie. Back in the day you would drive your car up to the box office window and pay before driving to a spot to view the movie through your car window. If the weather was good sometimes a blanket in the bed of a pickup served as a good spot for viewing. 

Glen tells me of a time he and friends pooled their money to go to the movie. They had more guys than money, so one of them, Steve Wirth, ducked down behind the driver’s seat while they went through the pay booth. When the driver went to pay, he dropped his dollars and without thinking opened the car door, exposing the hidden passenger. Oops, caught in the act. That incident may have diverted a life of crime. Anyway, beyond that outdoor theater is Hatch Hill. 

Hatch Hill is also a regular favorite crossing for deer. One ran in front of me just a few days ago, so slow it down. 

There is a history about the old Hatch place that was there below the hill until it wasn’t. For some months, new construction was going on. It looked like the new house was very similar in style to the old place except much bigger. 

That old Hatch place was built around 1910. Wilder Hatch and Patty Sessions, sister to Byron Session, were part of the early settlers to our area. Wilder was an assistant in company three, which included 19 wagons, 25 men, six women and eight children, as well as 45 horses. Wilder made the covered wagon for his family, and Patty packed it with a trunk, 40 quarts of fruit and eatables, a small stove, where she baked bread at night, which she prepared each morning along the way. 

Patty wrote, “As we came from our first camp to go to where we were to commence to build the canal ... we came down a sandy hill and viewed the land before us and saw where we were to build a home for ourselves. Wilder said, ‘Darling, I would be satisfied together with this piece of land right here.’ It lay to the south against a hill and on the other side was a prairie to feed cattle. We never forgot that piece of land, and as he drew the 120 acre slip from the hat, it was the piece of land he had earlier said he would be satisfied with. We were very happy and felt the Lord had guided us here, and we were indeed humble and thankful, and there was always a contentment there for us and our family.” 

When they first helped settle Byron, they were advised to build a town to be able to help other families. They lived in their sheep wagon until their house in town was built. In 1907, Wilder stepped on a rusty nail and within a few weeks died of tetanus. 

Patty was now a widow at age 27 and had four children to raise. Her oldest son died just five months after her husband. She shared, “When my children would see me crying, they’d gather around me and cry. I thought, ‘I can’t ruin my children’s lives doing this.’ From then on, when I felt I had to cry, I’d go out to my garden and hoe. That’s where I did my crying.” 

So the children, Wilder (Don’s grandfather), now the oldest, and two sisters all worked hard to take care of themselves and build on the farm. “I would take the horse and buggy to the Sand Hills and cut stones from the quarry there to start building our home (the home Don and Janene bought in 1980 and lived in until recently). On a lizard sled (made from forked tree branches) we brought sand from the river to mix and make cement with. We built a shanty and took in boarders to help with money. I didn’t know how to build a house, so I prayed to my Heavenly Father and asked him and he would give me the answer.” 

Wilder the second died of a heart attack when Wilder the third was attending college at the University of Wyoming. He returned home to help his mom with his two younger sisters and two brothers running the farm. In 1980, Don and Janene moved into the old homestead. 

While growing up, I attended birthday parties in that home for my school chum, Colleen Hatch. Ella Mae, Don and Colleen’s mom, made homemade root beer, which I found fascinating, watching the dry ice process, since I grew up sipping the suds off of a cold glass bottle of dad’s root beer on the steps of Cozzens Store. I thought it was neat how the house was sort of built on a hill. 

I imagine that there are still some of the stones at the foundation site from the quarry in the Sand Hills. Anyone know where that quarry is located? 

Don said they didn’t have to think too long about building a new place. They salvaged some remnants from the original home, and their kids came and in a few days had them moved the short distance across the driveway to their new digs. They are still looking for some of the things their family so carefully put away for them. 

The next time you are on Hatch Hill, glance over and remember that what was before is no longer. Time brings change. It is nice that there are journals and stories to help us consider those who came and settled the area when there was just sagebrush and hope.