Leaving Prints on the Pages of History

Leaving Prints on the Pages of History. . Badger lived in his cabin until he passed away at the age of 74. He died from lung cancer on September 26, 1957. Badger extolled the cowboy way of life. His wording captured the spirit of personal freedom and open spaces, symbols of time long ago. He still inspires poets with a vivid picture of the American West. One has only to read his poems to be transported back to a simpler time. , The Badger Hole is Preserved in Granite Stone , Upon his death, Badger left his cabin and its contents to his nephew, Professor Edwin Clark. This caused the question of what should happen to this future historical site. The State of South Dakota purchased the cabin for $3,500 and dedicated the site on June 14, 1958. , Walk Through the Threshold… , The cabin remains in the same state as Badger left it. This signature clothes are displayed in the back bedroom: riding breeches, military coats, and boots. His extensive library, which contains over 800 onginal titles, are lined along the back wall. Unopened packages of food still sit on their shelves. The cabin is full of historical richness. , You Never Know What You’ll Find , Two hikers in the late 1980s walked this path on a sunny summer day. They paused a moment to rest and found something unusual: a tattered hat hanging on a tree branch. The worn hat may have belonged to Badger Clark, who possibly placed it in the pine tree many years ago. No-one knows for certain; however, this story is one of the many lingering legends surrounding the Badger Hole. Do you believe it was Badger's hat? , I Must Come Back , I dread the break when I shall die, Not from my human friends, for they Are shifting shadows such as I And soon will follow me away; But from my earth that still must swing From day to dusk, from dark to dawn, Slow shimmering on from spring to spring Through all the years when I an gone. , How many loving , clouds will fold The piny peaks in tender mist; What sunsets turn the sky to gold And distant plains to amethyst. What sparkling winter days will loose The chuckle of the chickadee Among the silent, snowy spruce-And I shall not be here to see! , An old street dweller's soul may call For that fair City of No Night, Boxed in a four-square echoing wall of jasper, beryl and chrysolite, But I should wish the endless song Of crashing choirs were just the lark, And close light-weary eyes and long For starry, summer-scented dark. , No, when the waning heartbeat fails I ask no heaven but leave to wend, Unseen but seeing, my old trails, With deathless years to comprehend, My Earth, the loveliness of you, From all your gorgeous zodiac, Down to a glistening drop of dew. I must come back! I must come back! , Captions: , Badger wrote about 200 poems and 30 short stories within his lifetime. He also composed many editorials for local papers and pieces of praise for special occasions in nearby towns. Many of these items reside in the cabin, tucked away as if to be continued in the future. , The Badger Hole stands as a tribute to a man who told the story of the American West. Visitors that tour the historic cabin immerse themselves in the behind the scenes atmosphere of a literary genius. , Badger even left his mark outside the cabin. The trail was his path of natural solitude and offered him a chance to reconnect with the outdoors. The scenery is the same as when Badger walked through the woods.