What Was Table Rock, Wyoming?

Table Rock Road coming up!If you happen to be traveling I-80 in southwestern Wyoming, take a moment to look southward as you pass Exit 150, where a sign reads, “Table Rock Road”. There’s an odd break in the prairie landscape there, where a few trees don’t appear to “belong”.  Those trees remain as the only testament in the landscape to what was once Table Rock Village.

Tabe Rock housesOnce in a while, something special happens in a community that makes it worthy of remembrance. This was such a place. It won’t be in the history books. Its demise didn’t make national headlines. Nevertheless, this little “company camp” shaped the lives of an incredible number of people in a unique and special way. For a few decades, those few acres of the Red Desert were home to a group of modern pioneers. Those individuals carry the spirit of the community with them today and are passing it on to new generations.

This site and an upcoming book will tell the story of this unique community and the challenging, yet incredibly rewarding lifestyle of the residents. Table Rock Village was a vibrant, vital community and not only piqued the curiosity of travelers, but played an important role in Wyoming’s industrial development in the late 20th century. For that reason and many others, it deserves to be remembered.

The pages and blog archives on this site will give visitors an overview of the village, the reason it was there, and an idea of what made it special. We made Table Rock. It made us.


The Close of Another Year

Happy New Year 2018

Well, here we are closing out another year. Looking back at the few posts I made in 2017, it seems I’ve been writing nothing but bad news; basically just stories of the loss of members of our Table Rock family. I guess it’s hard to find anything new to say about a place that, to most of the world, no longer exists.

Over the past couple of years, I’ve considered taking this site down several times. I often feel it’s served its purpose and with both the village and the plant gone, perhaps it’s time to just let it go. We have an active Facebook group and it’s easy to keep up with each other there. For Table Rockers, this site isn’t much more than just another bit of nostalgia. I’ve never really put any effort into promoting it and it’s not breaking any traffic records.

The thing is, at least once a year, someone from outside our little family takes the time to leave a “Thank you” note. Every once in a while, it helps to satisfy someone’s curiosity about the place they used to drive by out there in the middle of nowhere. What’s more, those visitors usually mention that the posts and information here speak to them about the spirit of Table Rock and America. This year was no exception and for me, that’s enough.

So, in the next few days, I’ll update the pages again – they seriously need it – and I’ll continue to post anything that seems relevant or inspiring. The site will continue to be available for the curious and if it helps someone realize that there’s a better way than the compartmentalized lifestyle so many are living, then it’s worth it.

Wow, I went off the deep end, there, huh? I’m okay now. Don’t call the police or anything. I’m fine. Perfectly sane. The only sane one here. 🙂

Happy New Year, Table Rockers and friends! May 2018 bring peace, joy, love and prosperity to your homes!




Quin Dupree: July 14, 2017

Quin Dupree

Table Rockers are again heartbroken over the loss of a member of our widespread and diverse family. Quin Dupree, a welder and pipeline inspector, passed suddenly a few days ago.

Quin was known to us all as a hard worker, musician, master of the barbeque pit, a kind-hearted but strong man, a good friend and one of the second fathers to many younger Table Rock residents. He will be greatly missed, both by his family members and those of us who worked and played with him. Our hearts go out to those he has left behind.

For those who’d like to know more about him or the services for him, please take a few minutes to read the obituary posted here.

In Memoriam

Janice Louise (Rothe) Potts

Janice Rothe Potts

Table Rockers have suffered another heartbreaking loss, as our friend Jan Potts has passed on. Her son, Randy, was kind enough to provide the following beautiful eulogy, so I will simply step aside and share it:

It falls to but a few of mankind to pass three score and eleven years allotted to them and to but a very few is given the distinction of reaching the status of a “friend to many and a compassionate soul to all” as Janice Potts of Yerington, Nevada.

Mrs. Potts was born 71 years ago on January 2 in Phillips Co., near Hays, Kansas. She was adopted by her loving mother Opal “Nadine” (Higbee) Gordon of Ft. Scott, Kansas within hours of her birth. Her mother who cared and nurtured her and later along with her father, Leland Harold Rothe, of Otis, Kansas who adopted young Janice himself in 1950.

Mrs. Potts as a teenager moved to Colorado with her family and experienced the tragedy of her father’s sudden death in 1961 while still attending High School. Overcoming such a difficult situation, Jan would persist and was a member of the first graduating class of Ranum High School in Westminster, Colorado.

As one of only twenty-five national scholarship recipients of the John F. Kennedy’s extension of the National Defense Education program, Jan was enrolled in computer science studies in 1964 at Colorado State University in Ft. Collins, Colorado. Mrs. Potts is thought to be one of the earliest female pioneers in the drive to technology superiority in the United States.

Jan met “Mister Tall Dark and Handsome” by way of introduction by her mother whom had, herself, only recently become acquainted with Richard Lee Potts of Denver, Colorado. Mr. Potts had performed service work for the mother. Within days of the chance meeting between the mother and “Mister Mysterious”, Jan took her vehicle to the station; where Rich approached the vehicle and Jan exclaimed “I don’t want you, I want Larry.” Well, romance blossomed into a fifty-year plus marriage and a lasting love affair between Rich and Jan culminating in their union on September 2, 1966 in Security, Colorado.

Jan’s loves and passions always included her first devotion to the care and dedication to her family. Those that know Jan, feel that the love she received from her adopted family and the expansion of the household borne by her marriage resulted in the quest to research and seek out more information in the science and study of genealogy.

Although Jan was never directly able to find the answers she desired most regarding her birth-family, many clues over time would happen across her path. The first clue came to her via her aunt and uncle when they presented her with a book in 1970 which was titled “How to Sleep on a Windy Night: The Story of Dr. Mary” with an inscription inside: “Didn’t I pick some great parents for you,” signed Dr. Mary. She was told by her aunt and uncle that her personal story was contained within the pages of the book.

Later and after many years of traditional genealogical research, technological advances crept into Jan’s labors – DNA tests for ethnicity & genealogy. One of Jan’s happiest moments came from the ability to identify and converse directly with an equally devoted genealogist who also happened to be biologically related as near as possibly: a second-cousin some-times removed. Mrs. Potts mentioned on numerous occasions her fascination with the families’ lives and stories occurring in the days of the great rebellion between the States. She wished for the day that time travel became a reality so she could meet, visit and learn directly about the family.

The fascination of this period by Mrs. Potts is not focused on the political and economics of the war, but rather on the great calamity and sacrifice that affected the Nation and the daily lives of her citizens. The impact to women, children, and the families torn apart and how the survival and perseverance of the everyday person would be etched in the following generations always surrounded Mrs. Potts’ thoughts of that time.

The family will be holding a closed family remembrance and ask all family friends to honor the memory of Jan in joyful celebration and in lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made to:

The Fort Sumter/Fort Moultrie Historical Trust
ATTN: Janice Potts memorial
40 East Bay Street
Charleston, SC 29401

Survivors include her husband, Richard Lee Potts of Yerington, Nevada; son and his wife Randy and Kimberley Potts of Charleston, South Carolina; daughter and her husband Jodie and Garth Hamblin of Rock Springs, Wyoming; Grandchildren: Britania and Konstanz Potts of Rock Springs, Wyoming; Koryn and her husband Benjamin Botkin of Gretna, Louisiana; Megan of Rapid City, South Dakota; Gunner, Kayleigh and Timberly Hamblin of Rock Springs, Wyoming; Jyssica and her husband Grant Hertherington of Denver, Colorado; Kevin Lasco of Ft. Collins, Colorado; Corey Lasco and his fiancée Mindy Nickelson of Saratoga, Wyoming; Makayla Robidoux and her fiancée Austin Jones of Charleston, South Carolina; and, Tiana Robidoux of Charleston, South Carolina. Great-Grandchildren: Bradlee Botkin and Easton Jones.

She was preceded in death by her father Leland Harold Rothe; mother Opal “Nadine” (Higbee) Elam; and brother Ronald Lee Rothe.

Janice’s final resting place is located in the family cremains plot nearest to her loving mother and brother in Lone Mountain Cemetery, Carson City, Nevada.

In Memoriam, Table Rockers

Table Rock Was What?


It’s been far too long since I’ve posted here – again.

In the midst of the chaotic aftermath of the 2016 Presidential election, I find myself thinking once more of life at Table Rock and it occurs to me that my decision for the domain name I chose for this site may have been somewhat prophetic. I always thought it was kinda’ cool, but today, I’m thinking that there’s more to the name than
“Table Rock was us.” The fact is, “Table Rock was U.S.”

For those who don’t get it, Table Rock, to me, was a microcosm of what America used to be. It was a melting pot. It brought people of various ethnicity, religious beliefs and backgrounds together and gave us a unique opportunity to learn from each other and celebrate both our similarities and differences. We had a common goal: the security and strength of our community.

It was far from a Utopian society. Put 50 families in close proximity to one another, far from everything else and you’re going to have your share of problems. People are fallible. We learned from our mistakes, with various levels of repercussion. We made and lost friends. We did all those things that people do to each other, but we found ways to make it work.

Through it all, we had a community that could come together when it was called for. We helped support our children. We pitched in to help with projects. We learned to treat wounds and save lives. We not only survived extreme winters, we found ways to make then fun.  Meanwhile, those of us that were employees took our jobs seriously and “brought home the bacon” in more ways than one. (Table Rockers will understand.) We counted on our families and the community to keep the home fires burning.

Our common goals were more important than our petty differences. Yes, there were times when we trod on each other, sometimes in inexcusable ways. Through it all, we didn’t shoot each other, we didn’t interfere with each others’ beliefs and we did what needed to be done. There were more good times than bad, and man, did we know how to party as a community.

Oh, and that community security I mentioned? Some Table Rockers will remember the night it was reported that some escaped convicts might be headed our way. I can tell you that those individuals will never know how fortunate they were to have never wandered in. On the other side of the coin, we met and chatted with curious travelers and gave stranded motorists lodging and help regularly. Our borders were open, but marked and protected.

I miss the USA that Table Rock mirrored. The one in which standing up for yourself and for others came naturally. The one where we knuckled down and made a good life with what we had. The one where our children learned to be strong and kind. The one that made me and others like me.


Janie Hamner, November 30, 2015

Janie Hamner
Table Rockers bid a sad goodbye to yet another member of our  big family this year. Janie is remembered as a second mom to many of the younger residents and a good friend to all.  She took an active role in many community functions and is, perhaps, best remembered as the talented pianist at all those Christmas programs and other presentations by the Table Rock kids.

Janie will be missed by many and our hearts go out to her daughters and grandchildren, as well as the rest of her family and loved ones. Her obituary is available here.

In Memoriam

Judi Callahan, July 14, 2015

Judi Callahan

On July 14, 2015, Table Rockers lost another neighbor, friend and Village Mom. She will live on in the memories of her Table Rock family. Rocket-Miner Obituary

In Memoriam

A New Year – and the Final Chapter in the Demise of The Rock

Table Rocl Processing PlantI didn’t post my usual New Year article here this year; it’s been a busy year so far. As it happens, I’m glad I waited, since it turns out that 2014 will be another banner year in a sad sort of way. It’s been officially announced that Table Rock Gas Plant, formerly Table Rock Processing Plant, will be permanently shut down during the first quarter of this year.

From my perspective as one of the many who worked there, this will be a milestone that’s related to, but separate from the demolition of the village. Families, friends and even a few lucky passersby experienced the village and feel the loss. At the risk of sounding prideful, I believe the workers at the plant and in the supporting field shared something that even our families can’t fully appreciate.

The resources we processed, the processes themselves and the materials we used in the processes all posed serious risks. I’m not romanticizing the situation when I say that there were a hundred ways to suffer life-changing injuries or death at TRPP and being overcome by the toxic gas we stripped was among the least ugly and painful. We worked with substances that could burn the flesh off your bones, freeze your lungs or drop you where you stood. We worked with gases and liquids at extreme pressures and temperatures, heavy machinery rotating at insane speeds and substances so volatile that a spark could eliminate the entire crew on duty. We worked 200 feet in the air and on the ground with hundreds of tons overhead. We sometimes did all of this in temperatures that literally froze any exposed skin in minutes.

We were the front lines if disaster struck. We were the firefighters. We were the first – and the only- responders. We were the security team. We were the cleanup crew, the repair crew and the emergency transport personnel. We were trained in all of those disciplines and drilled regularly. When you’re in a hazardous environment, 45 miles from “civilization”, you have only yourself and your co-workers to depend on. To this day, I know I can have a Scott Air Pack donned and operational in less than 10 seconds. (The beard, of course, would pretty much defeat the purpose.)

Table Rock VillageHere’s a twist that few people think about: Our families were housed in a village only about a mile, as the crow flies, away from the plant. What’s more, the gas that ran all of the appliances in the homes came directly from the plant outlet stream. That meant that the safety of our loved ones and our friends was constantly in our hands, as well. How’s that for job-related stress?

I’m not pointing all of this out to brag or complain. We were well trained and well paid and we knew the risks when we took on the job. The real point I’m trying to make is that those of us who worked there were more than just a crew. We had to know that we could count on each other to do our jobs. Regardless of how  we felt about each other outside the work environment, when we clocked in, we were part of a team. What needed to be done got done. We also found ways to have some laughs while we did it. I’m proud to have been a member of that work force and, I believe, a better person for it.

Interestingly, I also find myself grateful that my book wasn’t completed last year as planned, since the closure of the plant wouldn’t have been included. The fact is, I still haven’t received the input I’ve hoped for from other Table Rockers yet, either. I’m hoping that the reunion later this year will be a good opportunity to collect some more stories. Although my own experiences there would easily fill the pages, they can’t possibly do justice to what Table Rock was on their own.

So, there’s my somewhat lengthy first article of the New Year on this site. Comments are, as always, welcome. Happy New Year, everyone!


The “Big Coin Toss” at the Flare Stack

While reading through some of this year’s posts on the site to gather more book material, a comment by Table Rocker Jim Madden reminded me of one of the hundreds of interesting things I witnessed at the plant – although I was at home in the village at the time this one occurred. I thought I’d share my perspective of the event here – an event I still think of as the coin toss at the flare stack.

To provide a little background for those who don’t know, the “flare stack” at Table Rock Processing Plant was – and is – a vertical pipe on the north end of the plant where the inlet stream is diverted when there’s an interruption in the plant processes. The toxic gas is (normally) ignited by “pilot” burners at the top of the stack. Those igniters didn’t always work, and the fun we had manually lighting the flare is another story altogether. Understand, folks, that this isn’t a wimpy, little, 4-inch stack like those some of you may have seen at well sites. The plant flare, as I recall, is 24″ in diameter and about 150′ high.  (Someone please correct me if I’m wrong)

The control room

The Control Room, Back in the Day, with (l to r) Aaron Heki, Buddy Henley and Milton Cooper

“Back in the day”, the task of “taking it to flare” was the responsibility of the Senior Operator on shift in the control room. It was a routine we all knew well: Flip the switch to close the plant outlet valve and use a control knob to open the valve to the flare stack and regulate the internal plant pressure. All in all it was a fairly simple process – in a perfect world. Of course, it had to be done in the midst of flashing lights, audible alarms warbling, and while maintaining radio communication with the plant operators. All this was often accompanied by the drone of the H2S alarm siren and the whine of the emergency generator. It was a stressful situation for the most experienced personnel, and for new Senior Operators and those in training, it could be downright confusing.

Now, my memory isn’t as good as it used to be, but I’m almost sure that I remember who was in the control room that day and he was fairly new to the position. What happened, in simple terms, was this: After a power “blink”, the acting Senior Operator flipped the switch to close the plant outlet and in his rush to check the myriad indicators, silence alarms and contact his operators, forgot, for a while, to open the flare valve. This allowed the pressure in the plant vessels to build for a while. When the oversight was realized, he overreacted somewhat and spun the little knob to open the flare valve.

[Cut to my home.] I was enjoying a day off when the lights went out momentarily. (Just another power blink at Table Rock.) Because my living room window offered a great view of the plant, I was in the habit of watching the flare stack ignite – it just never got old. I got up and went to the window and waited… and waited… and waited.

Just as I was saying, out loud, actually, “C’mon, go to flare,” a translucent, white streak shot up from the top of the stack, at least twice the height of the stack itself. After what seemed like entirely too many seconds, a “tiny” flame sprouted at the top of the streak. The stream gradually reduced and the flame eventually fought its way back to its normal size.

The most interesting part, though, was what I saw emerge from the stack just before that white streak. It sparkled in the bright sunlight as it flew impossibly high in the air, spinning like a tossed coin and arcing back down out of sight. I wish I’d had the presence of mind to count the flashes as it flipped, but the truth is I was mesmerized. Note, folks, that the plant is a mile away from where the village sat, so you can imagine how brightly that object must have been flashing to be so visible from my vantage point.

As Jim mentioned in his post, we would all find out later that the sudden rush of gas to the flare stack had ripped the flame spreader from inside the stack and shot it into the air. This was a 2″ thick steel disc with nearly the same diameter as the stack. You can imagine the force required to do something like that. Imagine the punkin’ chunkin’ record we could have set.

It’s important to note that automatic relief valves throughout the plant would have vented the pressure before it reached a critical level. In the final outcome, no one was hurt and the plant came back online. We joked about it, but took the lesson to heart. We put it behind us, because that’s how you roll when you work with the things we worked with. The flare continued to function without that baffle plate, although the flame was somewhat less spectacular. Life at The Rock went on. I never found out whether the landing was heads or tails up.

This was just one of countless “adventures” we had at the plant, but it’s always been one of my most vivid memories of those days. In my mind’s eye, I can almost see an exaggerated bulge in the flare stack as the pressure built up behind the baffle plate, like something out of an old Roadrunner episode.

I’d love to read about this from the perspective of other Table Rockers who witnessed it.

General, Memories

Thanks for the Memories…

With Thanksgiving on the horizon again, I know I’m not alone in including the opportunity to have lived at Table Rock in my list of things I’m most thankful for. To those who can’t grasp why so many would feel such a strong connection to a place, a lifestyle and an incredibly diverse assortment of individuals, I can only say that you had to live it to understand it.

The bond may be strongest for those who were children there and knew the security of living in a community with a sense of family that encompassed not just our village but our neighbors in Wamsutter, too. One of those lucky individuals took the time to create a video comprised of family photos taken by Table Rockers that provides a small glimpse into our past as well as a heart-wrenching view of the deterioration of our home in the desert. For Table Rockers, it will bring some smiles and perhaps a tear. For anyone else, it may help illustrate the sense of nostalgia and gratitude we feel for our lives there. I’ve embedded the video at the bottom of this post.

Thanks, Kevin, for helping preserve the memories. Thanks to my own family for taking the Table Rock journey with me all those years ago. Last, but not least, thank you to my crazy, mixed-up Table Rock family for sharing a part of yourselves with me and my children. Best Wishes from me and mine for a safe and Happy Thanksgiving.

(Click here to watch full-size on YouTube)

General, Memories

Happy Independence Day, Table Rockers!

Independence DayTable Rock was, in many ways, a perfect example of the things that make our country great. Remember when people knew how to work together to build a community and raise children with strong moral principles and a sense of responsibility, rather than delusions of entitlement? Table Rockers do.

Today is another one of those holidays that brings back memories of The Rock for me. From picnics and pit barbeques to flag ceremonies with our Scouts to fireworks at the ball field, we knew how to celebrate our country’s birthday and remember the cost of the freedoms we enjoy as Americans.

To all my friends from The Rock: You are in my thoughts today, wherever you are. Have fun. Stay safe.