Editor’s note: Bob Corrigan provides new information about the photo of Buckskin Dick published in January. Click HERE for the original story.
In the original article, I had said that Buckskin Dick’s surname was Conroy. At least, that is what I had been told. However, it looks like the correct name is Dick Conway, witness the article that appeared in Barry’s Bay This Week on March 8, 1989. (Photo above.) Phil Conway was always interested in anyone named Conway so he did some research and penned the article in the newspaper that he owned.
Armed with the corrected name, I went searching and came across Dick in the 1921 census for Murchison Township (known today as South Algonquin Township) in Nipissing District. His entry listed him as Richard Conway, age 22, single, and living by himself in a house that he owned. He was born in Ontario (c1899) while both of his parents had been born in Ireland. He could read and write, and he was a Catholic. His occupation was recorded as fire ranger.
I could not find Richard Conway in the 1911 or 1901 census, nor could I find any record of his birth. If some reader has any idea of when he died, or what became of him, it would be of interest to many people.
Phil Conway’s article in Barry’s Bay This Week reproduces a story written by Ralph Bice for the 1989 Morgensen’s Almanac for farmers, trappers and prospectors. Conway introduced Bice’s piece by saying, “In checking out this Conway chap, I find that several old timers remember him, but he was not one of the Barry’s Bay Conway clan. He was probably an American who came north with the early railroaders and settled in the Madawaska area…. Because the Barry’s Bay Conways could get into enough trouble of their own, we don’t need an outside American Conway coming in and screwing up our clan name. So, we decided to reprint the story of “Buckskin Dick” and let you decide for yourselves whether there was any connection or not. Our apologies to our American cousins of course.”
Here are Ralph Bice’s stories about Buckskin Dick Conway
There was a man much talked about even after the First World War. I have never been able to find out just what he did, as when I saw him he was a sort of fire ranger who rode a three-wheeled railway tricycle on the piece of railroad that drew logs for J.R. Booth, called the Macauley Branch. When I first saw him, he was using an artificial leg, but no one seemed to know just how he lost it. He was well into his sixties when I saw him, and I do not think he ever tried married life.
But a lot of stories. This I heard from a number of places. He had one habit, and that was he always carried, in open view, a revolver. Believe he had discarded it in his later years, but as a younger man, he always wore it. He apparently was quite a cocky person when younger, in spite of his small size. One story tells about the time he stopped for dinner at a camp where men were working. There was a gang of men, and years ago each man had his own spot at the table. But Buckskin Dick just took a seat that he fancied. The foreman came in, and there was this man, in his seat. He was asked to move, and refused, so the foreman, a two-hundred pound red-headed Irishman, just reached down and took him by the seat of his pants, and tossed him into the corner. There were cries of “Watch out” as Dick pulled his revolver, and only that a man close by kicked it away, there might have been serious injury.
Another widely told story was about one time he was working with a railroad gang, repairing or perhaps making better the new railroad that had just been constructed through the area. This about the time that Algonquin Park had been established, and that meant no one could carry a gun or revolver. Dick was working with this gang, and several of his co-workers did not like the idea of this very crusty man always carrying this revolver. So one of the new park rangers was sent to get the firearm. He quite calmly asked Dick to give him the revolver, telling him that it would be returned as soon as he left the Park area. There was a solid refusal as Conway claimed that he was such a small man with so many big husky workers, he needed it for protection. So the ranger, and I will not mention his name, thought it was ninety five years ago, just quietly said, “Well then, I will have to take it.” In a second the revolver was out of the holster and cocked, and with a string of profanity said “no man takes it while it’s loaded.” I never did hear just what did happen, but I do know that the times I saw him, this during the First World War, he was not wearing his so-called protection.
No one I have talked to seems to know just how he lost his leg, though one suggested it may have been a railway accident.
Buckskin Dick never married. Rumour has it that he several times advertised for a wife, and two were interested, but when they came and saw his little one-room shack, also the man himself, they got on the train and went back home.
Not unusual with men who lived a sort of loner existence, he really was a kind-hearted person, and performed many kind deeds for people he could help. There are many tales that have been handed down about the Conway family, perhaps some of them authentic, but Dick is the only one who is remembered, and the next generation will hardly know about him, but he was a real person, and I did talk to him. And there is no doubt that men like him did fill a niche in the life-style of the period in which he lived.
Note: If you are interested in having a heritage picture and story featured in The Madawaska Valley Current, please submit the information to Bob Corrigan c/o The Current, PO Box 1097, Barry’s Bay K0J 1B0 (originals will be returned) or email to madvalleycurrent@gmail.com
