Dusty and a little dirty, and always in a hurry
Was my great, great grandfather Adam McBane
A little horseshoeing and a lot of gambling
Never gave him one silver dollar to his name
Atop ol’ Sparkey he reached western Colorado
And on a lazy summer day he rode into Timberline
The saloon was full of whiskered, worried men
Money the town was about to lose, was on their mind
The Central Pacific railroad promised a bonus
If the tracks reached the city limits by sunset that day
Though the spike-driving strong arms pounded fast
Dusk in Timberline was a mere three hours away
The town council was meeting in McGregors general store
Six men sat around a table, looking drained and beat
For the track was still four long miles west of town
The ten-thousand dollar incentive was facing certain defeat
Grandpa ran to McGregors store to talk to the men
He stood before them, hat in hand, and had this to say
‘gentlemen give me one thousand dollars in double eagles
and I will save Timberline and maybe your souls this day
The city charter was dragged out and the men began to read
Frowns turned to smiles, for there it was in black and white
The authority to extend the city limits four and one-half miles
And so it was done, for the council had this right
Timberline had met the conditions the railroad laid forth
Adam McBane’s saddle bags jingled with coins of gold
Grandfather had indeed saved the community that day
And today on Timberline’s streets, this story is still told
