Soapweed
Well-known member
jodywy notified me of the passing of a mutual acquaintance. Here are some of my memories of Jim:
Thanks, Jody, for letting me know of the passing of Jim Coziah. My thoughts, prayers, and condolences go out for his family.
I didn't know Jimmie very well, but he was a character. Besides both of us working for Frome Outfitting, he was in the Wyoming National Guard at the same time I was in the Nebraska National Guard.
One time during the mid 1970's we had a joint two-week summer camp at Guernsey, Wyoming. During the week-end in the middle, I managed to buy my way out of any KP or guard duty and decided to travel out to Jackson. Jimmie Coziah, Binky Long, and one other guy (who I can't remember right now) asked if they could ride along. We were ready to leave Guernsey at about 7 p.m. on Friday. I was with Jimmie when we stopped to tell his First Sergeant where he was going. Jimmie gave the guy a big hug, and said, "Good-bye, Mom," and then proceeded to kiss the old geezer right on the lips. I was sure wondering what kind of company I was having for our night long drive.
My vehicle was just a single cab pickup, but the four of us crammed in it for our drive west. Before we left town, my three passengers bought a case of 24 cans of beer and proceeded to imbibe freely. We'd have to stop along the highway quite often for those three to relieve themselves. When we got to Dubois, a dance was in progress at one of the honky-tonks. We stopped there for awhile and then continued on. I was cold sober but getting pretty sleepy. The other three were pretty drunk, so I continued to do the driving. It was a dangerous trip over Togwotee Pass, as I was getting drastically drowsy. At one point I even thought pink elephants were crossing the road in front of us. We finally made it to Jackson and had breakfast at the Antler Café on the west end of town, where the wife of one of my passengers met us to take the other three on to Afton. I got a few hours of sleep on my pickup seat before taking in the sights of Jackson Hole.
I ended up in Afton about noon on Sunday, to once again pick up my passengers for the return trip to Camp Guernsey. The trip was relatively uneventful, except for when we stopped for supper at a little trailer house diner in Wheatland. The special of the day was broasted chicken. The other three put in their order for this, but I elected to get a hamburger instead. The chicken arrived at our table, but it was under-cooked, bloody, and rare. The three big tough soldiers eyed their food queasily, and Binky grabbed a drumstick. His hand shot outward, and he uttered "Bwuck, bwuck, bwuck........., come back here." We all laughed, and they did get their raw chicken swallowed. I was delighted that my hamburger was cooked just right.
It was a memorable trip, and I will always remember Jim Coziah.
Thanks, Jody, for letting me know of the passing of Jim Coziah. My thoughts, prayers, and condolences go out for his family.
I didn't know Jimmie very well, but he was a character. Besides both of us working for Frome Outfitting, he was in the Wyoming National Guard at the same time I was in the Nebraska National Guard.
One time during the mid 1970's we had a joint two-week summer camp at Guernsey, Wyoming. During the week-end in the middle, I managed to buy my way out of any KP or guard duty and decided to travel out to Jackson. Jimmie Coziah, Binky Long, and one other guy (who I can't remember right now) asked if they could ride along. We were ready to leave Guernsey at about 7 p.m. on Friday. I was with Jimmie when we stopped to tell his First Sergeant where he was going. Jimmie gave the guy a big hug, and said, "Good-bye, Mom," and then proceeded to kiss the old geezer right on the lips. I was sure wondering what kind of company I was having for our night long drive.
My vehicle was just a single cab pickup, but the four of us crammed in it for our drive west. Before we left town, my three passengers bought a case of 24 cans of beer and proceeded to imbibe freely. We'd have to stop along the highway quite often for those three to relieve themselves. When we got to Dubois, a dance was in progress at one of the honky-tonks. We stopped there for awhile and then continued on. I was cold sober but getting pretty sleepy. The other three were pretty drunk, so I continued to do the driving. It was a dangerous trip over Togwotee Pass, as I was getting drastically drowsy. At one point I even thought pink elephants were crossing the road in front of us. We finally made it to Jackson and had breakfast at the Antler Café on the west end of town, where the wife of one of my passengers met us to take the other three on to Afton. I got a few hours of sleep on my pickup seat before taking in the sights of Jackson Hole.
I ended up in Afton about noon on Sunday, to once again pick up my passengers for the return trip to Camp Guernsey. The trip was relatively uneventful, except for when we stopped for supper at a little trailer house diner in Wheatland. The special of the day was broasted chicken. The other three put in their order for this, but I elected to get a hamburger instead. The chicken arrived at our table, but it was under-cooked, bloody, and rare. The three big tough soldiers eyed their food queasily, and Binky grabbed a drumstick. His hand shot outward, and he uttered "Bwuck, bwuck, bwuck........., come back here." We all laughed, and they did get their raw chicken swallowed. I was delighted that my hamburger was cooked just right.
It was a memorable trip, and I will always remember Jim Coziah.
