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Binger Oklahoma Home Of Johnny Bench – The slow vanishing of the heartland!

November 25, 2025November 27, 2025BenjaminLeave a comment

7–10 minutes

The next photographs depict an small town in Oklahoma from its birth through current day.

Going to town. Getting groceries, supplies and other needed items were essential trips in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Towns like Binger, Oklahoma were places where such trading centers would become popular. Train depots and later bus lines would bring needed connections to the area.

The above photos capture buildings that no longer stand. They were lost in one of the early fires that shaped the town’s history. The original downtown was once located near the area now known as the Johnny Bench Ball Park. This is at the Fair Grounds. After each fire, the town slowly shifted north. It rebuilt itself one block at a time. Eventually, it settled into its current location. The Post Office was a major accomplishment for any community to achieve. When a post office came, it marked the community’s success. The community became a reliable base for investors, visitors, and tourists.

State Highway 152 now runs through the center of town. Locals know it as Main Street. This familiar stretch has quietly observed generations pass through. This place is not what I call my hometown. But, it remains part of my associations. It is woven into the landscape of where I grew up and the memories that shaped me. During the 1950s to 1980s, hundreds of teenagers gathered on Binger’s Main Street. They saw it as the Main Drag on Friday and Saturday nights. It was as hot as a radio station spinning its latest hit. Both tunes filled the air from the City Hall. Tires spun all the way to the east end by the CO-OP. Button Williams, the towns Police Chief, watching carefully over the towns teen as he had since God’s creation. His Assistant Chief Jerry Wright there to catch calls on off nights.

Binger has always felt like one of those places where sports held the town together. The fields and courts were filled with tough farm kids. They were shaped by long days and dusty roads. Life taught them strength early. Many came from the Caddo and Kiowa Nations. People from other tribes joined them. Together they formed a close-knit spirit. This made every game feel like a community event.

From those humble beginnings came Johnny Bench. He was a local boy who carried his talent all the way to the Cincinnati Reds. He proudly wore number 5. The town still honors him with a small museum. It serves as a quiet reminder of how far a dream can travel from a place like this. And then there was Robert Johnson Jr., who tasted professional baseball but chose the familiar comfort of small-town life instead. In these memories, the heart of Binger lives on. It resides not just in its history. It also lies in the way it shaped those who once called it home. My grandfather bought the first Model T Ford from the town of Binger’s Ford dealership. They came to town to sell them when the Model T’s came out. “Pop” described the Ford outfit as being near where an old Caddo Electric building sets today. If you drive through the town, you will see the big white building. It’s on the corner near US281 and SH-152.

The above photo shows Main Street in Binger, Oklahoma, in 1932. It captures a quiet moment frozen in time. After the town burned twice, it rose again each time. It was rebuilt about a block north of its original location. This carried with it the stubborn spirit of those who refused to let it disappear. This image shows what became the final resting place of that rebuilt heart of town.
When the sidewalks were poured, metal rings were set into the concrete. They were meant to tether horses and wagons. Townsfolk stepped inside to conduct their daily business. For decades, those rings remained. They served as humble reminders of a slower pace and simpler life. In the mid-1970s, new federal accessibility requirements called for lower ramps and fresh pavement. With that change, the old sidewalks were replaced. The iron echoes of the past quietly vanished. Now, only memory and photographs tell their story.

This photo was found behind a old counter in the back of a business in the 1970s. Its dated as being in the 1920s. Which is a possibility. The name of the business is unknown. Yet longtime residents at the time did recognize the business as belonging to the town.

Binger once hosted three cafes and a hardware store. It also had two barber shops, a bar, and a propane company. There was a drug store, a movie theater, and two grocery stores. Additionally, it featured two laundries, a plumbing company, and a funeral home. The town included a post office, an electrical repair shop, a junk-pawn shop, and a pool hall. Binger also had two dry goods stores and a Western Auto. It had a Chevrolet Dealership, a TV Repair Service, and Three Service Stations. These were a Sinclair, a Gulf, and a Git-N-Go. There was also a dress shoppe. There was even a healthy farmer’s Co-Op. There were many other businesses that came and went in between the years. The public school was well respected in the County and had been given financial support to meet its needs.

This is a photo of the buses traveling both directions along Main Street in Binger. I’ve carried it with me for years. I have shared it many times. It always stirs the same familiar sense of remembering. This photo was taken while looking west. It captures the gentle rise at the end of the street — Binger Hill. For generations, this slope has slowed heavy trucks. It becomes unforgiving during icy winter storms.

On the right side, the white building stands just before the line of trees begins. It once served as City Hall. Inside were the fire department, water department, and city clerk. The building also housed a small police office. There was a jail that I can assure you no one was eager to test. The bars were thick, cold steel, reinforced and unyielding. I saw more than a few individuals placed there by the town’s two-man police force. This pair quietly carried more responsibility than most ever realized.

This photograph isn’t just about traffic or buildings. It holds a piece of a time when Binger moved at a gentler pace. The town watched over its own. Every corner held a story waiting to be remembered.

Johnny Bench rode home with the Binger High School baseball team on April 1, 1965. They had just played a game in nearby Riverside. This was a routine trip. It would become a moment forever etched into the town’s history. As the bus crested a hill, the coach suddenly realized the brakes had failed. The vehicle couldn’t slow down. It careened into a curve at dangerous speed. It burst through the guardrail and plunged nearly fifty feet into a ravine below.

The accident claimed the lives of two young teammates, Harold Sims and Billy Joe Wylie. This loss rippled through a small community that mourned deeply. Amid the chaos, Bench survived. He was guided by advice once given by his father. His father was a propane truck driver who understood the dangers of the road. He had told his son that in such a situation, the safest place was the floor of the vehicle. Remembering those words, Johnny dropped down. He instinctively pulled teammate David Gunter with him. This act well have saved both of their lives.

What followed was not just a tale of tragedy. It was also a story of instinct and survival. There was a quiet strength carried forth from a small Oklahoma town into the story of a legendary career.

Johnny Bench, the legendary Cincinnati Reds catcher, was known for the remarkable size and strength of his hands. Many claim he can palm as many as five baseballs in one hand. He famously demonstrated this skill on the television program This Is Your Life in the early 1970s. This moment is still remembered by many longtime fans.

Today the state highway runs right through the town’s middle section. What once was a Main Street with shops and store fronts bustling with shoppers and townspeople is now empty. It is nearly deserted.

_{^{Cart’s Lumber on the Town’s East side is one of the few businesses providing services to the town.}}

_{^{The Medical Center reportedly closed some years ago.}}

There are a few businesses still open in the town. A dollar store, a satellite bank of a local branch is located on the hill. There is one diner. A convenience store. A bar and the Post Office. But for most part, the buildings you find will be empty, boarded up and closed. In the 1970s, the town’s streets were packed with people parking to go shopping on Main Street. Now, the streets are wide open. Many contribute the towns rundown to the Caddo Electric Headquarters moving it’s headquarters three miles east of town. It caused many doing business with the Electric Cooperative to avoid stopping in Binger. It was the first set of nails in the towns casket. The others were placed there when too much faith was placed in the oil industry. Then as shops began to close, people began to move, and the towns center stopped functioning. I know because I was there and watched it. This was the town closest to our farm. I graduated from a school some fifteen minutes away, a place called Lookeba-Sickles. And that place is story for another day!

From Cotton Fields to Sheriff: The Story of Jess Bowling

April 20, 2025BenjaminLeave a comment

By Benjamin GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | 2025 Truth Endures©

4–5 minutes

Sheriff Jess “Pooch” Bowling, Jr.: From Cotton Fields to County Leader

Jess Bowling, Jr. was born in Binger, Oklahoma, on August 23, 1924. At just 11 years old, he left behind half his family. He also left the dusty plains of Oklahoma. He sought a new beginning in California. With his father and brother, young Jess traveled west in a weathered 1929 Buick. They finally settled in the small agricultural town of Dos Palos. His mother, two sisters, and another brother stayed behind in Oklahoma—a family split by circumstance but not by love.

Life in California was anything but easy. Jess Jr. rose with the sun. He toiled in the cotton fields until it set. He contributed what he could to help his family survive. It was hard work—grueling and endless—but there was resilience in the struggle. Sheriff later joked, “We did live in the biggest tent in Dos Palos!”

His father, Jess Sr., quickly became a cornerstone of the growing town. He opened a grocery store, invested in rental properties, and became active in local politics. His leadership and business savvy earned him a seat on the city council and, eventually, the title of Mayor.

Jess Jr. worked in the family store while attending school. He graduated from Dos Palos High School with a reputation for dependability and quiet strength. Not long after, fate stepped in when he met Darlene, a young woman from Iowa visiting relatives. The two married in 1945 and raised three children—Sharlynn, Shirley, and Michael.

The Badge and the Beat

Jess Bowling’s journey into law enforcement began in 1953 when he joined the Dos Palos Police Department. His first assignment? Tackling the town’s parking problem. Officer Bowling issued dozens of citations, doing so with a steady hand and a sense of duty. He even issued one to his father, the Mayor. Years later, he found that very ticket among his father’s possessions, a keepsake of humor and integrity.

Although that first stint in law enforcement was brief, it planted a seed. After returning to the family store, Bowling joined the Atwater Police Department in 1956. In 1958, he made the move that would define his career: joining the Merced County Sheriff’s Department.

In 1963, Bowling became the department’s first-ever canine handler, partnered with a large, loyal German Shepherd named Jim. Together, they helped pioneer a new era of policing.

By 1974, Jess Bowling had risen to the rank of Lieutenant when tragedy struck—the sudden passing of Sheriff Earl McKeown. In the aftermath, Bowling was appointed interim Sheriff. The people had already decided by the time the special election rolled around in May 1975. Bowling’s steady leadership and quiet competence earned him the Sheriff’s badge in his own right.

Reformer, Leader, Trailblazer

Sheriff Bowling led the department through six transformative years. He spearheaded major innovations that professionalized law enforcement in Merced County. Under his administration:

The Corrections Division was established, moving jail staffing from deputies to trained corrections officers.
Dispatch services were assigned to civilian professionals, freeing up sworn deputies for fieldwork.
He launched the county’s first-ever 24-hour patrol, marking the end of the “resident deputy” model.
He hired Merced’s first female deputy, breaking gender barriers in local law enforcement.
The department acquired its first handheld radios, enabling Bowling to reintroduce the classic “walking beat cop” in areas like Winton.

These weren’t just administrative changes but foundational shifts that shaped the Sheriff’s Department into a modern, responsive force.

His achievements were not only admired—they were preserved. Jess “Pooch” Bowling’s remarkable career is documented in a collection. His family lovingly maintains it as a tribute to a life of service.

Legacy and Final Salute

I had the privilege of knowing the Bowling family. One of my sisters even married Jess’s nephew. Every time he returned to town, Sheriff Bowling brought a yearbook from the department he once led. He proudly pointed out the growth and accomplishments of his former team. The department’s scope, the number of divisions, and the professionalism he helped instill always struck me, as did his accomplishments.

1974 – The first female deputy was sworn in

1974 – First portable transceivers issued to deputies

1974 – The first 24-hour patrol begins

1977 – First Special Emergency Response Team (SERT) organized

1977 – Marshal’s Office established

1980 – Hostage negotiators were trained and included on the SERT team

_{^{Merced County Sheriff’s Office, California}}

But behind the badge was a man who never forgot where he came from. Before the titles and the accolades, Jess “Pooch” Bowling was a boy in a Buick. He was a cotton picker working under the sun. He was a young man doing what he could to help his family survive.

After a doctor advised him to retire due to a serious heart condition, Sheriff Bowling stepped down in 1980. He lived to celebrate his 80th birthday during Merced County’s 150th anniversary in 2005. This honor was fitting for a man who helped shape its modern history.

Jess “Pooch” Bowling passed away on April 18, 2007. He was laid to rest beside his beloved Darlene in Dos Palos Cemetery.

His story is one of grit, integrity, and service. It is a journey from the cotton fields to the highest badge in the county.

A SMALL TOWN VOLUNTEER AMBULANCE TEENAGE DRIVER

May 2, 2024BenjaminLeave a comment

AT 16 YEARS OLD I VOLUNTEERED AS A DISPATCHER FOR OUR POLICE DEPARTMENT AND AMBULANCE SERVICE. I DROVE HALF THE PEOPLE IN OUR TOWN TO THE HOSPITAL THIRTY MILES AWAY.

In the quaint town of Binger, nestled amidst rolling hills and whispering woods, life moved at its own unhurried pace. It was the 1970s, and I, at the tender age of sixteen, found myself immersed in the h.eart of the community as a volunteer dispatcher and ambulance driver.

Binger boasted a modest population of 850 souls, a close-knit tapestry of neighbors who looked out for one another. Our town’s medical emergencies were once tended to by the local undertaker, a man of solemn demeanor and a heart of gold. But as time marched on, age had caught up with his trusty driver, rendering him unable to steer the old ambulance through the town’s winding streets.

With a sense of duty and a touch of nostalgia, the undertaker donated his faithful 1962 Buick station wagon to serve as our makeshift ambulance. It was a relic of bygone days, rigged with flashing lights, a wailing siren, a sturdy stretcher, and a precious oxygen bottle. Thus, a new chapter unfolded in Binger’s history, with a rotating roster of ten volunteers, including myself, standing ready to answer the call of distress.

In those days, the rhythm of life was punctuated by the shrill ring of the telephone, summoning us into action. I would leap into the driver’s seat, adrenaline coursing through my veins, as I raced through the streets, navigating the twists and turns with practiced precision. The urgency of the situation would lend wings to my feet as I rushed to the aid of my fellow townsfolk.

The years rolled by, and Binger evolved. In 1978, the benevolent gesture of the Chevrolet dealer brought a gleaming new station wagon into our midst, a symbol of progress and prosperity. We felt like modern-day heroes, equipped with state-of-the-art technology to serve our community.

But as the 1980s dawned, change swept across the land. The state enacted stringent laws mandating EMT training and certification for ambulance attendants, a noble but burdensome requirement. Our volunteer organization, unable to meet the new standards, faced dissolution.

With heavy hearts, we bid farewell to an era marked by camaraderie and selflessness. The nearest ambulance service now lay twenty-eight miles away, a stark reminder of the passage of time and the inexorable march of progress.

Yet, amidst the bittersweet farewell, the spirit of Binger endured, a testament to the resilience of small-town values and the enduring bonds of community. And though our roles as volunteer dispatchers and ambulance drivers may have faded into memory, the echoes of our service reverberated through the annals of time, forever etched in the fabric of Binger’s history.