Excerpt from a remembrance written at the time of his death, by friend Pixie Nudell Glore.
"Some stories need to be told before they are lost to the dust of time. This is one of them."
Wes was a big man, very big. 6'6 and sturdy. He had a receding hairline and almost always a full bushy beard. In his later years he was a regular winner of the big mustache contest on the island of St. Croix. My daughter described him as a giant Jerry Garcia. He liked to wear shorts and some kind of T-shirt that would get a rise out of people. One, I remember, looked like a tuxedo. He also liked to dress up for holidays. St. Patricks Day was a favorite—lots of green, a shiny top hat, beads, sleeveless tank where you could see his full sleeve tattoos. He often carried a little dog around and always had a big drink.
I met him when I was too young to be in his bar—The Crazy Horse Saloon—the only rock-n-roll bar in Salt Lake City at the time. The bar had a lot of red upholstery, a long wooden bar and dark paneling. It was carpeted, except for the dance floor, and smelled of stale beer and cigarettes. Even in the daytime, there was always a smile and laughter echoing off the walls along with music of the 60's and 70's—Springsteen, Led Zeppelin, Clapton, Hendrix etc. Everyone who worked there loved him—they were his family. I too would end up being part of that family.
A few years on I was with my boyfriend—Billy—a good friend of Wes's. They had worked at Lake Powel together in the early 70's and still liked to spend a lot of time there. Bill had a houseboat and Wes often came along on boating trips—they knew the canyons well and we would spend long starry nights on the beach telling stories and drinking orange sunrises, with Bill playing guitar. During the day, we would waterski, hike and swim until we were exhausted. It was a magical time.
A few years later, I lost Billy in a construction accident and Wes and the others at the Crazy Horse were there to glue pieces of me back together as they fell off. Wes was like a big brother and hid his grief somewhere I couldn't see. We all staggered along through life for a bit.
At one point, he lived in a Geodesic Dome and had lots of animals. A big bird, a rabbit, a cat, a dog, a pet sheep and a turkey—that won a ribbon at the state fair! I often took my daughter there to pet his animals. I remember him sitting in his big chair and the bird (I think it was a Cockatiel) making a huge squawking/screeching sound and flying out of its cage—then the cat, the rabbit, dog and sheep would all go racing around the room creating a huge ruckus. Wes would get up and grab some nuts and put them on the bird perch and then the bird would dive for it and stop and everyone would settle down and go wherever they came from. Wes said "they've got me trained".
Eventually he got a Shetland pony who he'd drive around in the back of his van. I never saw that, but he told me about it. I do remember any small car he bought, he'd take the front seat out and sit in the back to drive.
Wes had a partner in the bar and the scoundrel and his mother embezzled all his money. He lost everything, including all of his antique furniture. By then, I was working in Vernal Utah for a large construction company and Wes came up to visit-flat broke. I was living on the edge of the Green River in my blue school bus. I loaned him $40 and my tent and managed to get him on as a Laborer for my company. He did that for a few weeks, paid me back and then, being upwardly mobile, drove trucks for them next. He got himself an apartment and settled into the town.
...
Years later I met Wes in the "Three Legged Dog Saloon", in Myton (next to Vernal). He had just ran for mayor and barely lost. By then he had quit driving trucks and had become Bar and Beverage Manager at their new Sheraton Hotel.
...
The next bunch of years he spent buying and fixing up apartments, restaurants and motels. There he would employ all his old friends and especially the ones who "weren't employable" anywhere else. He said "I have to take care of my family". He bought himself a big saddle and I asked "why did you buy that?" He said it's for when I get a horse! Which he finally did.
In Vernal he bought a lovely ranch house with some land where all his animals were at home. The only problem was he had bought a few lamas and they rather quickly turned into twenty! I remember his big Shepherd and the head guard llama doing a dance only llamas do to protect the herd. It was obvious it was more of a game for them. Like usual, it was all pretty crazy and I got to introduce my son to the petting zoo.
...
He continued to prosper, except for his divorce—guess it cost him a bit, but it didn't slow him down. Eventually, he started to sell his property and businesses and moved to St. Croix to retire. He loved it
...
Wes spent more than a decade in St. Croix and made lots of new friends whom he added to his family. I have no doubt that he helped many of them out as he'd done all his life with me and the people I knew. He loved life, had a couple boats once, went scuba diving, got tattooed, won the big mustache contests and spent a lot of time on the beach until the end.
He was a legend wherever he went.
Miss ya big guy. -Pixie Nudell Glore
"Some stories need to be told before they are lost to the dust of time. This is one of them."
Wes was a big man, very big. 6'6 and sturdy. He had a receding hairline and almost always a full bushy beard. In his later years he was a regular winner of the big mustache contest on the island of St. Croix. My daughter described him as a giant Jerry Garcia. He liked to wear shorts and some kind of T-shirt that would get a rise out of people. One, I remember, looked like a tuxedo. He also liked to dress up for holidays. St. Patricks Day was a favorite—lots of green, a shiny top hat, beads, sleeveless tank where you could see his full sleeve tattoos. He often carried a little dog around and always had a big drink.
I met him when I was too young to be in his bar—The Crazy Horse Saloon—the only rock-n-roll bar in Salt Lake City at the time. The bar had a lot of red upholstery, a long wooden bar and dark paneling. It was carpeted, except for the dance floor, and smelled of stale beer and cigarettes. Even in the daytime, there was always a smile and laughter echoing off the walls along with music of the 60's and 70's—Springsteen, Led Zeppelin, Clapton, Hendrix etc. Everyone who worked there loved him—they were his family. I too would end up being part of that family.
A few years on I was with my boyfriend—Billy—a good friend of Wes's. They had worked at Lake Powel together in the early 70's and still liked to spend a lot of time there. Bill had a houseboat and Wes often came along on boating trips—they knew the canyons well and we would spend long starry nights on the beach telling stories and drinking orange sunrises, with Bill playing guitar. During the day, we would waterski, hike and swim until we were exhausted. It was a magical time.
A few years later, I lost Billy in a construction accident and Wes and the others at the Crazy Horse were there to glue pieces of me back together as they fell off. Wes was like a big brother and hid his grief somewhere I couldn't see. We all staggered along through life for a bit.
At one point, he lived in a Geodesic Dome and had lots of animals. A big bird, a rabbit, a cat, a dog, a pet sheep and a turkey—that won a ribbon at the state fair! I often took my daughter there to pet his animals. I remember him sitting in his big chair and the bird (I think it was a Cockatiel) making a huge squawking/screeching sound and flying out of its cage—then the cat, the rabbit, dog and sheep would all go racing around the room creating a huge ruckus. Wes would get up and grab some nuts and put them on the bird perch and then the bird would dive for it and stop and everyone would settle down and go wherever they came from. Wes said "they've got me trained".
Eventually he got a Shetland pony who he'd drive around in the back of his van. I never saw that, but he told me about it. I do remember any small car he bought, he'd take the front seat out and sit in the back to drive.
Wes had a partner in the bar and the scoundrel and his mother embezzled all his money. He lost everything, including all of his antique furniture. By then, I was working in Vernal Utah for a large construction company and Wes came up to visit-flat broke. I was living on the edge of the Green River in my blue school bus. I loaned him $40 and my tent and managed to get him on as a Laborer for my company. He did that for a few weeks, paid me back and then, being upwardly mobile, drove trucks for them next. He got himself an apartment and settled into the town.
...
Years later I met Wes in the "Three Legged Dog Saloon", in Myton (next to Vernal). He had just ran for mayor and barely lost. By then he had quit driving trucks and had become Bar and Beverage Manager at their new Sheraton Hotel.
...
The next bunch of years he spent buying and fixing up apartments, restaurants and motels. There he would employ all his old friends and especially the ones who "weren't employable" anywhere else. He said "I have to take care of my family". He bought himself a big saddle and I asked "why did you buy that?" He said it's for when I get a horse! Which he finally did.
In Vernal he bought a lovely ranch house with some land where all his animals were at home. The only problem was he had bought a few lamas and they rather quickly turned into twenty! I remember his big Shepherd and the head guard llama doing a dance only llamas do to protect the herd. It was obvious it was more of a game for them. Like usual, it was all pretty crazy and I got to introduce my son to the petting zoo.
...
He continued to prosper, except for his divorce—guess it cost him a bit, but it didn't slow him down. Eventually, he started to sell his property and businesses and moved to St. Croix to retire. He loved it
...
Wes spent more than a decade in St. Croix and made lots of new friends whom he added to his family. I have no doubt that he helped many of them out as he'd done all his life with me and the people I knew. He loved life, had a couple boats once, went scuba diving, got tattooed, won the big mustache contests and spent a lot of time on the beach until the end.
He was a legend wherever he went.
Miss ya big guy. -Pixie Nudell Glore
Excerpt from a remembrance written at the time of his death, by friend Pixie Nudell Glore.
"Some stories need to be told before they are lost to the dust of time. This is one of them."
Wes was a big man, very big. 6'6 and sturdy. He had a receding hairline and almost always a full bushy beard. In his later years he was a regular winner of the big mustache contest on the island of St. Croix. My daughter described him as a giant Jerry Garcia. He liked to wear shorts and some kind of T-shirt that would get a rise out of people. One, I remember, looked like a tuxedo. He also liked to dress up for holidays. St. Patricks Day was a favorite—lots of green, a shiny top hat, beads, sleeveless tank where you could see his full sleeve tattoos. He often carried a little dog around and always had a big drink.
I met him when I was too young to be in his bar—The Crazy Horse Saloon—the only rock-n-roll bar in Salt Lake City at the time. The bar had a lot of red upholstery, a long wooden bar and dark paneling. It was carpeted, except for the dance floor, and smelled of stale beer and cigarettes. Even in the daytime, there was always a smile and laughter echoing off the walls along with music of the 60's and 70's—Springsteen, Led Zeppelin, Clapton, Hendrix etc. Everyone who worked there loved him—they were his family. I too would end up being part of that family.
A few years on I was with my boyfriend—Billy—a good friend of Wes's. They had worked at Lake Powel together in the early 70's and still liked to spend a lot of time there. Bill had a houseboat and Wes often came along on boating trips—they knew the canyons well and we would spend long starry nights on the beach telling stories and drinking orange sunrises, with Bill playing guitar. During the day, we would waterski, hike and swim until we were exhausted. It was a magical time.
A few years later, I lost Billy in a construction accident and Wes and the others at the Crazy Horse were there to glue pieces of me back together as they fell off. Wes was like a big brother and hid his grief somewhere I couldn't see. We all staggered along through life for a bit.
At one point, he lived in a Geodesic Dome and had lots of animals. A big bird, a rabbit, a cat, a dog, a pet sheep and a turkey—that won a ribbon at the state fair! I often took my daughter there to pet his animals. I remember him sitting in his big chair and the bird (I think it was a Cockatiel) making a huge squawking/screeching sound and flying out of its cage—then the cat, the rabbit, dog and sheep would all go racing around the room creating a huge ruckus. Wes would get up and grab some nuts and put them on the bird perch and then the bird would dive for it and stop and everyone would settle down and go wherever they came from. Wes said "they've got me trained".
Eventually he got a Shetland pony who he'd drive around in the back of his van. I never saw that, but he told me about it. I do remember any small car he bought, he'd take the front seat out and sit in the back to drive.
Wes had a partner in the bar and the scoundrel and his mother embezzled all his money. He lost everything, including all of his antique furniture. By then, I was working in Vernal Utah for a large construction company and Wes came up to visit-flat broke. I was living on the edge of the Green River in my blue school bus. I loaned him $40 and my tent and managed to get him on as a Laborer for my company. He did that for a few weeks, paid me back and then, being upwardly mobile, drove trucks for them next. He got himself an apartment and settled into the town.
...
Years later I met Wes in the "Three Legged Dog Saloon", in Myton (next to Vernal). He had just ran for mayor and barely lost. By then he had quit driving trucks and had become Bar and Beverage Manager at their new Sheraton Hotel.
...
The next bunch of years he spent buying and fixing up apartments, restaurants and motels. There he would employ all his old friends and especially the ones who "weren't employable" anywhere else. He said "I have to take care of my family". He bought himself a big saddle and I asked "why did you buy that?" He said it's for when I get a horse! Which he finally did.
In Vernal he bought a lovely ranch house with some land where all his animals were at home. The only problem was he had bought a few lamas and they rather quickly turned into twenty! I remember his big Shepherd and the head guard llama doing a dance only llamas do to protect the herd. It was obvious it was more of a game for them. Like usual, it was all pretty crazy and I got to introduce my son to the petting zoo.
...
He continued to prosper, except for his divorce—guess it cost him a bit, but it didn't slow him down. Eventually, he started to sell his property and businesses and moved to St. Croix to retire. He loved it
...
Wes spent more than a decade in St. Croix and made lots of new friends whom he added to his family. I have no doubt that he helped many of them out as he'd done all his life with me and the people I knew. He loved life, had a couple boats once, went scuba diving, got tattooed, won the big mustache contests and spent a lot of time on the beach until the end.
He was a legend wherever he went.
Miss ya big guy. -Pixie Nudell Glore
"Some stories need to be told before they are lost to the dust of time. This is one of them."
Wes was a big man, very big. 6'6 and sturdy. He had a receding hairline and almost always a full bushy beard. In his later years he was a regular winner of the big mustache contest on the island of St. Croix. My daughter described him as a giant Jerry Garcia. He liked to wear shorts and some kind of T-shirt that would get a rise out of people. One, I remember, looked like a tuxedo. He also liked to dress up for holidays. St. Patricks Day was a favorite—lots of green, a shiny top hat, beads, sleeveless tank where you could see his full sleeve tattoos. He often carried a little dog around and always had a big drink.
I met him when I was too young to be in his bar—The Crazy Horse Saloon—the only rock-n-roll bar in Salt Lake City at the time. The bar had a lot of red upholstery, a long wooden bar and dark paneling. It was carpeted, except for the dance floor, and smelled of stale beer and cigarettes. Even in the daytime, there was always a smile and laughter echoing off the walls along with music of the 60's and 70's—Springsteen, Led Zeppelin, Clapton, Hendrix etc. Everyone who worked there loved him—they were his family. I too would end up being part of that family.
A few years on I was with my boyfriend—Billy—a good friend of Wes's. They had worked at Lake Powel together in the early 70's and still liked to spend a lot of time there. Bill had a houseboat and Wes often came along on boating trips—they knew the canyons well and we would spend long starry nights on the beach telling stories and drinking orange sunrises, with Bill playing guitar. During the day, we would waterski, hike and swim until we were exhausted. It was a magical time.
A few years later, I lost Billy in a construction accident and Wes and the others at the Crazy Horse were there to glue pieces of me back together as they fell off. Wes was like a big brother and hid his grief somewhere I couldn't see. We all staggered along through life for a bit.
At one point, he lived in a Geodesic Dome and had lots of animals. A big bird, a rabbit, a cat, a dog, a pet sheep and a turkey—that won a ribbon at the state fair! I often took my daughter there to pet his animals. I remember him sitting in his big chair and the bird (I think it was a Cockatiel) making a huge squawking/screeching sound and flying out of its cage—then the cat, the rabbit, dog and sheep would all go racing around the room creating a huge ruckus. Wes would get up and grab some nuts and put them on the bird perch and then the bird would dive for it and stop and everyone would settle down and go wherever they came from. Wes said "they've got me trained".
Eventually he got a Shetland pony who he'd drive around in the back of his van. I never saw that, but he told me about it. I do remember any small car he bought, he'd take the front seat out and sit in the back to drive.
Wes had a partner in the bar and the scoundrel and his mother embezzled all his money. He lost everything, including all of his antique furniture. By then, I was working in Vernal Utah for a large construction company and Wes came up to visit-flat broke. I was living on the edge of the Green River in my blue school bus. I loaned him $40 and my tent and managed to get him on as a Laborer for my company. He did that for a few weeks, paid me back and then, being upwardly mobile, drove trucks for them next. He got himself an apartment and settled into the town.
...
Years later I met Wes in the "Three Legged Dog Saloon", in Myton (next to Vernal). He had just ran for mayor and barely lost. By then he had quit driving trucks and had become Bar and Beverage Manager at their new Sheraton Hotel.
...
The next bunch of years he spent buying and fixing up apartments, restaurants and motels. There he would employ all his old friends and especially the ones who "weren't employable" anywhere else. He said "I have to take care of my family". He bought himself a big saddle and I asked "why did you buy that?" He said it's for when I get a horse! Which he finally did.
In Vernal he bought a lovely ranch house with some land where all his animals were at home. The only problem was he had bought a few lamas and they rather quickly turned into twenty! I remember his big Shepherd and the head guard llama doing a dance only llamas do to protect the herd. It was obvious it was more of a game for them. Like usual, it was all pretty crazy and I got to introduce my son to the petting zoo.
...
He continued to prosper, except for his divorce—guess it cost him a bit, but it didn't slow him down. Eventually, he started to sell his property and businesses and moved to St. Croix to retire. He loved it
...
Wes spent more than a decade in St. Croix and made lots of new friends whom he added to his family. I have no doubt that he helped many of them out as he'd done all his life with me and the people I knew. He loved life, had a couple boats once, went scuba diving, got tattooed, won the big mustache contests and spent a lot of time on the beach until the end.
He was a legend wherever he went.
Miss ya big guy. -Pixie Nudell Glore
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