Cheyenne Frontier Days was more than just a celebration of cowboy culture—it was where I began to learn how the world really worked.
By junior high, I had graduated from selling pop on the streets to bussing tables at the Hitching Post Inn, Cheyenne’s busiest spot during CFD. Ironically, after the HP was condemned, it was torched by its owners.
It was there, under the glare of neon signs and cigarette smoke, that I got my first hard lesson in human nature—and racism. I didn’t have the vocabulary for it back then, but I knew what it felt like.
All businesses either make or break their year based on their CFD trade. The hotels jack up their prices, which is understandable. Cheyenne becomes a destination for rodeo fans or those who have CFD on their list of things to do before they die. CFD is akin to what the 10-day-long Sundance Film Festival will mean for Boulder.
The Hitching Post Inn was a conference and convention center that was always busy. It was the Wyoming State Legislature headquarters.
Even more so during CFD. When I was in junior high school, my first job was working as a busboy there during the summers of 1966 to 1968. It gave me an early education about human nature. I hadn’t run into as many jerks and a$$holes as I did during those days and nights at the Hitch.
The night show entertainment at the CFD arena has become the big draw these days. CFD numbers are up, not because of the rodeo, but because of the party atmosphere promoted during CFD. The standing room seats are the primo tickets and a party zone for young people who think hamburger comes from the grocery store.
The world needs more cowboys.
Back in the good old days, the popular shows were family acts like Doc and Festus from “Gunsmoke” and the chuck wagon races. They don’t do those anymore either due to liability issues.
Being a Cheyenne native, some people are surprised to learn that my family and I were city people and didn’t get much into the rodeo part of Frontier Days.
2. Learning Human Nature at an Early Age: My first shifts at the Hitching Post were during the day in the coffee shop. Most days it was busy, but during CFD, the place was packed with a waiting line that extended onto the sidewalk outside.
“Hey Hopsing!” I heard from a guy from Texas with a bad mustache, wearing a polyester, brownish herringbone western-cut jacket. At first, I didn’t know what he was talking about until he yelled it again, pointing at me. “Can ya bring me more cowfee!”
This was the first time I had ever been overtly berated based on my race. It took me by surprise because I was Japanese, not Chinese, like the Cartwright’s stereotypical servant from the Bonanza TV show.
Lorne Greene, who played Ben Cartwright, performed his one hit Johnny Ringo at CFD at a night show in 1970.
That moment has stuck with me and influenced my work today, which includes writing books, such as Views from Beyond Metropolis, and creating documentary films, including Beyond Sand Creek and Beyond Heart Mountain, with a focus on cultural competency themes. Additionally, I create safe spaces where diverse communities can read my books, watch my movies, and come together to discuss important issues.
As I became more experienced, my favorite shifts during CFD were 7 pm to 3 am and 11 pm to 7 am. There was always plenty of action for a 14-year-old kid running booze and glasses to the smoke-filled Hitching Post Coach Rooms for the Sons of the Pioneers Show, shooting the breeze with fun-seeking cowboys and their girlfriends at the counter in the coffee shop.
During the day, I delivered room service to the lounge singer named Jody Miller. She was a one-hit wonder. She climbed the charts with Queen of the House, a remake of Roger Miller’s King of the Road.
I was in Phoenix Books and Music when it was still owned by Don McKee, and noticed a record by Jody Miller. The only other famous person I met was Victor Jory, who sat at the coffee shop counter in a tan safari jacket, smoking cigarettes.
Just before sunrise one morning, another busboy named Mark Samansky – God rest his soul – and I went into the Coach Rooms.
Mark played the drum solo from Iron Butterfly’s “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida”. I don’t think the boss – Kenny Ahlm – ever figured out who was making all the racket. The drum solo begins at 6:29 of the music video. I kept in touch with Mark until he graduated from high school. He was a few years older than I, and we lost contact.
H
e, not surprisingly, went into radio broadcasting as a well-known DJ in Florida and Denver. He died a few years ago.
That one moment—being called “Hop Sing” by a customer who saw only my race—never left me. It cracked open a lifelong awareness that eventually shaped my work in film, writing, and community-building.
Today, I create spaces where people can confront those same biases, build cultural bridges, and speak across differences. I didn’t ask to learn that lesson at age 14, but I carry it with me still, from the Coach Rooms of the Hitching Post to every story I tell.
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