The tale behind the tombstone

A white-on-white tombstone that lies in the southwest corner of the Donald J. Ruhl Memorial Cemetery is strangely isolated from all the other markers on the block of memorials. Dillon McKinnon, it reads, along with a date of birth and death and the inscription: “His memory is blessed.”

The empty area surrounding the grave suggests it should be a family plot. But we found no other McKinnons in the cemetery.

Who was this young man? All that was known was that he got caught in a fierce blizzard while hunting in the Big Horn Mountains. The heartbreaking and heartwarming story, pulled together by several researchers and sources, is enough to renew your belief in miracles.

Dillon McKinnon was born in Oregon in 1915, the son of Clarence Roy and Eulalia (Eula) P. Smith McKinnon. He had a sister, Lavelle, who was four years old, and a younger brother, Denver, who was born in 1917. Their mother died a month after Denver’s birth, and the baby was adopted by a couple from Willits, Cal.; LaVelle was sent to live with her maternal grandparents.

Clarence took Dillon, and the two traveled west to Kane where Dillon’s paternal grandparents lived. Clarence and his father purchased small ranches, and life was good.

Then came World War I. Clarence joined the U.S. Army, and young Dillon was left adrift again with his grandparents.

When Clarence was discharged and returned to Kane and his ranch, he met 20-year-old Mabel (Maime) Veda Prill, who taught in a one-room schoolhouse. They married soon thereafter, and Dillon had two half-sisters (Mava and Felice) and two half-brothers (Robert and Dale) in short order. Dale is the only surviving member of the family and is the one who supplied background information.

Hard times hit. Both father and grandfather lost their ranches. The grandparents moved back to Oregon, while the McKinnon family moved first to Ten Sleep, then to Greybull.

According to Dale, Clarence loved Dillon deeply, but Maime did not. “Mother favored her own children; she disliked Dillon.” Conditions grew intolerable, and Clarence finally found an elderly widow who lived between Shell and Greybull who offered to give Dillon room and board in return for his helping with the chores.

He always looked forward to hunting. When early October came, he headed for the Big Horn Mountains, camping supplies in one hand and his father’s gun in the other.

One particular season, he made camp, bagged his elk, and was returning to camp to get what he needed to dress it out. But the weather changed in an instant. A fierce snowstorm hit, one of the worst seen in the Big Horns, with fierce winds and rapidly falling temperatures. Dillon kept walking.

Finally, cold and fatigue took their toll. He made a bed out of pine boughs, took off his boots and socks, laid them and his rifle by his side, and fell asleep.

Searchers found Dillon two weeks later under two feet of snow. His bed of boughs was near the Ranger Creek area, and they estimated he had walked 15 miles. They also said it appeared “like he died peacefully, just fell asleep from the cold and exhaustion.”

A reporter spoke to one of the members of the search team who told him that when they found Dillon on the bed of pine boughs, he was wearing a red flannel shirt.

(Past articles stated Dillon’s gun was never found, but they were incorrect. Dale has possession of the gun.)

Dillon’s funeral service was held at Greybull First Baptist Church.

In the same issue of the paper that detailed Dillon being found, there was an obituary for his paternal grandfather who had passed away in Oregon, which might explain why there was no obituary for Dillon.

Nineteen years later, in October of 1951, another 17-year-old hunter from Casper traveled with his father and two of his father’s friends to hunt in the Big Horn Mountains. The youth (who wished to remain anonymous in his original interview) had accompanied them on hunts before and knew the Big Horns. A hunting trip to the local mountains was an annual affair. 

The party of four went up Trapper Canyon just like Dillon had almost two decades before. On the first day, all the men bagged their game. The youth’s dad told him to go get their pickup. He later said he was comfortable sending his son because he knew the Big Horns and the pickup was parked at their camp just “two swells” away.

The youth began the short jaunt away from the party. Then a dense fog rose and covered the mountain. Nothing could be seen, according to those involved. Unexpectedly, the youth lost his sense of direction. He wasn’t sure he had passed one swell or two, so he kept walking.

Suddenly, through the fog, he saw a vision--”a faint image of a boy, wearing a red flannel shirt and pointing in the direction opposite of where I was headed. I hollered at him but the fog moved into the clearing and he disappeared.” (Jackie Dorothy, Cowboy State Daily) The youth turned in the direction the boy was pointing and before long, walked right into the camp. The young hunter waited for the fog to lift, then drove the truck back to his dad and the others.

The youth was still bothered about what he had seen the following day. He drove to another camp nearby and asked if anyone there had gotten lost in the fog. One man had. He said he had lost his sense of direction in the thick fog when, out of nowhere, he saw a dim figure in a red shirt motioning urgently for him to stay where he was. Taking heed, the man built a fire and remained where he was all night. The next morning, he discovered that if he had kept moving, he would have walked off a very steep ledge.

The story doesn’t end there. A Basque sheepherder from Greybull told someone later that while in the Big Horns, in a dense fog, he too saw an apparition of a boy in a red shirt.

The Casper youth believed it was the spirit of Dillon McKinnon that directed him on the right path. He wanted to remain anonymous to keep the focus on the figure that saved his life. The author of the original interview kept his word; he never revealed the teenager’s name.

God moves in mysterious ways. A teenager from Casper, an unknown hunter and a Basque sheepherder are a testament to that. 

Dillon is the only McKinnon in the cemetery--was this meant to be? Was his spirit meant to be close to the Big Horns so he could save other lost hunters? Three that we know of, but could there be more? How many hunters out there are we unaware of that have also encountered the boy in the red flannel shirt?