The Moulton Barns
The perfect setting links two landmarks. wo of the most photographed structures in the U.S., the Moulton Barns just north of Jackson, have become almost as iconic as the majestic mountains towering in the distance. Reminders of Mormon pioneer homesteaders who settled near Blacktail Butte around the turn of the 19th Century, the revered aged wood buildings rest on landscape in another American icon, Grand Teton National Park. Those first homesteaders arrived in Jackson Hole from Idaho and established a community that came to be known as “Mormon Row.” Settlers Thomas Alma (T.A.) and John Moulton built the barns on adjacent homesteads between 1912 and 1945. John Moulton’s grandson, Jim, explained that John filed his claim when he was only 16 or 17, demonstrating the enterprising spirit typical of early homesteaders. “You had to be twenty one, so he lied about his age, but back then nobody cared,” Jim said, chuckling. “So he came back when he was twenty one and proved up on it” (officially took possession of the tract). Today the barns and a few houses are about all that remain of the community that thrived for nearly 100 years along Mormon Row. But memories linger, especially for John Moulton’s grandson. Born at Jackson’s old St. John’s Hospital in 1954, Jim was one of 6 children raised at the north end of Mormon Row. They all went to school in a one-room schoolhouse down the road and attended the LDS church next door. That old church structure now functions as the saloon at the Calico Restaurant on the Teton Village Road. Along with his wife Suzan and children Reed, Sara, TJ, and Chase, they were among the last families to inhabit Mormon Row. “We had about a one-hundred cow-calf operation and raised really good cattle,” recalled Jim. “My dad and Roy Chambers (a neighbor to the south) had good bulls and good Herefords.
People look at the beauty of the barns, and what people don’t understand is that real people grew up there. Real people scraped out a hardscrabble living. Real people lived and died out there. Back then it was harsh—it was without mercy. “For most people back then it was totally about survival,” he continued.“You had to get your wood in, you had to get the hay in, you had to get your cattle fed—you had to get things done.” Mother Nature in Jackson Hole can be demanding. She was no less so during his family’s time on Mormon Row. “Winter didn’t wait for us, it came no matter what,” Jim explained. “It was long and hard and you had to survive; you had elk in the freezer and elk hanging in the barn. “People look at the beauty of the barns, and what people don’t understand is that real people grew up there. Real people scraped out a hardscrabble living. Real people had their dreams out there, real people sacrificed. Real people lived and died out there. It was all about surviving. Back then it was harsh—it was without mercy.” Still, life below the Tetons was not without its appeal. “It is beautiful, beautiful country, and I think they appreciated that. They liked it and were enamored by the beauty—but they were working ranchers,” Jim pointed out. “When I was in my late teens, I talked about going climbing,” he recalled. “My father asked, ‘Why you doing that, why you need to go climb-
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G r a n d T e To n & Ye l lo w s To n e a d v e n T u r e G u i d e 2 0 1 7
Photo Courtisy Sue Ernisse and the Pounian Family
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By Bob Woodall
Barn builders John Moulton and wife Bartha ing? You haven’t lost anything up there you need to go find.’” And his dad wouldn’t stand for rodeo. There wasn’t enough time in the summer for rodeo, it took too much energy. “We had to get ready for winter,” he said. But winter provided some relief in a way. “In winter we could relax, it gave a break from the tedium,” Jim said. “I saw blizzards as a child where we were literally snowed in for two weeks at a time, snow that came to the top of the house with fifteen-foot snow banks.” And there was an upside to those epic snowfalls, too. “Most of us grew up skiing on Snow King. When we couldn’t get to town, there was a little fifty-foot bump of a hill next to the Chambers’ homestead. We would ski it all day long,” he remembered. “I have been looking at the Grand Tetons all my life,” Jim mused. “So many sunrises, so many sunsets—some so shockingly beautiful.” His wife Suzan, Jim added, “always refered to them as my mistress because they are such a big part of our life.” Folks today are also taken with the beauty of the old Moulton barns. Recently, someone photographed the northernmost barn, posted its photo on Facebook, and compared its roof line to the exact details of the Teton horizon. “You just go, ‘Wow! You think someone actually gave a crap when they built the barn that it matched architecturally with the Tetons?’” Jim asked, rhetorically. “It was just happenstance. People read too much into it.” Jim, too, often takes photos of his barn, sometimes while a tourist happens to be doing the same thing. He related one incident that caught him a bit off guard. “This lady turns to us and says, ‘They faced this the wrong way; this barn is totally oriented the wrong direction.’ I said, ‘Really? And Why?’ She went into an explanation of how they were the wrong angle for mountains. “I was beginning to get mad. Here she was insulting what my granddad did—haven’t heard too many other people complaining about the way they are situated out there.” “I had to literally grab his arm and pull him back,” said Suzan, laughing. “Jokingly I have said this quite a bit: A lot of people have their claim to fame, and mine is being in association with one of the most famous barns in the world,” said Jim. “What my granddad built is something to be proud of. And it’s a signature of the valley that is a big part, almost in a way that the Tetons are an icon.” Again, Jim’s association with the barn and Mormon Row is more than just a conversation starter. “As an outfitter and a guest ranch manager,