The sun was just beginning to rise on Jan. 29, 1958, over the windswept hills of Ellsworth, Nebraska. In this tiny unincorporated town where Highways 2 and 27 meet in the western Sandhills, Graham’s General Store opened its doors at 7 a.m., as it did every weekday. Two gasoline pumps stood out front. A black 1956 Packard sedan pulled off the highway to fuel up.

A young man stepped out – his hair crudely dyed black, with dark streaks running down his neck like shoe polish – and entered the store. Inside, glass display cases held candy, gum, tobacco and pocketknives. Groceries lined the shelves. A few firearms stood in racks above boxes of ammunition. A butcher block awaited use for slicing meat and cheese for sandwiches. Wooden bins held bolts, nails, rake teeth and machinery parts. A chest-style soda cooler offered bottles of pop.

Two customers were inside: Jack Ballinger, the local mail carrier, and Pete Jardine, a Burlington Railroad signal maintainer who lived at the depot and had stopped by before starting work.

Store owner Roy Graham greeted the young man and stepped outside to service the car. His large black German shepherd, Wolf, followed close behind, making the visitor visibly uneasy. As Roy pumped gas and washed the windows, he noticed a girl lying under a blanket in the front seat. Two guns – a shotgun and a handgun – lay near her. The young man paid in cash and drove off, heading west toward Alliance.

Something about it didn’t sit right. Roy jotted a note on a scrap of cardboard: Black Packard Sedan Nebr: 2-17415.

Inside the adjoining post office, Roy’s wife, Ramona, had just sat down at the roll-top desk with a copy of the Omaha World-Herald. That morning’s front page carried a chilling headline: a teenage killer named Charlie Starkweather was on the run after a string of murders in eastern Nebraska.

Later that morning, the radio confirmed it – Starkweather had murdered the C. Lauer Ward family in Lincoln and was traveling in their 1956 black Packard. The license plate matched the number Roy had written down. He immediately called the police and state patrol, though conflicting reports placed the killer elsewhere. Starkweather went on to kill again near Douglas, Wyoming, before his arrest. For the Grahams and the people of Ellsworth, the memory of the morning a serial killer stopped in town never faded.

Though the Starkweather sighting may be the most infamous moment in the store’s history, it’s just one chapter in the long and layered story of this Sandhills landmark.

Built in 1898, as part of the sprawling Spade Ranch operation, the store has served as post office, freight depot, general store, tack shop and local gathering place. More than a century later, it’s still open for business – and still connecting past and present in one of Nebraska’s most storied cattle towns.

On a windy, cool spring afternoon, the bell above the door jingles as a couple steps into the Ellsworth store, brushing back wind-swept hair and adjusting their jackets. “Hey guys, how’s it going?” Wade Morgan calls from behind the counter, his hands resting on the wooden candy case.

The couple nods and smiles, then meanders through the store. They linger over racks of denim and rows of boots, run fingers over tack, and pause at the shelf lined with Mari Sandoz books. They chat with Wade as they browse – swapping stories about highways and towns, the weather, and where they’re headed next. Wade offers suggestions, pulls down a pair of gloves to try, and they laugh over a story about a neighbor’s dog. Eventually, they settle on a sturdy pair of gloves and two bottles of water for the road.

“Thanks for stopping by,” Wade says as they step back into the wind, the bell chiming once more behind them.

Beyond being a stop for weary travelers, the store itself is a historical landmark. Constructed by Ferdinand Merritt and his sons, the store was part of the Spade Ranch complex. Founded in 1888 by Bartlett Richards and William Comstock, the Spade was one of the largest and most famous ranches in the nation, spanning more than 500,000 acres at its height in 1905.

The wood-frame store, with its pressed-tin ceiling, served as a vital hub for ranch hands and homesteaders. Before the post office addition on the north side, mail was sorted directly inside the store. Upstairs, store manager Bill Seebohm lived in a modest apartment. He helped load freight wagons that followed sandy trails 20 miles to the Spade Ranch headquarters.

The Nebraska Land and Feeding Company – later known as the Nebraska Stock Growers Association – made the store its headquarters in 1898. A large walk-in safe held ranch records. In a back room called “The High Private,” homesteaders filed for land claims. Across the street, weary travelers from the railroad could stay at a hotel also built by the Merritts. Spade cowboys and hay crews bunked there at no charge, gathering in the large basement room known as “The Bull Pen.” Stockyards to the east handled thousands of head of cattle shipped by rail.

The Spade Ranch’s fortunes began to wane in 1905, when Richards and Comstock were convicted of illegally fencing government land. President Theodore Roosevelt’s administration made an example of them, sentencing both to one year in prison. Richards died behind bars at age 49. Comstock returned to sell off assets, but by 1923 the ranch had collapsed. Banks foreclosed on its properties, including the store.

After sitting vacant, the store was purchased in 1927 by Abbott interests. Lawrence Graham took over management, moving in with his wife Hazel and their baby boy.

“My first impression of Ellsworth was not good,” Hazel later wrote. “I was a young woman with a 7-month-old baby, moving with my husband into a strange neighborhood, to manage a business we knew very little about.” The store was in poor shape – plaster falling from ceilings, rats and mice underfoot.

Then came winter – and a near catastrophe. Fearing the pipes to the railroad’s water tank would freeze, a coal chute attendant lit a fire beneath the tank. Flames spread to the store roof. In desperation, local men fired rifles at the water tank, riddling it with holes to release a torrent of water and extinguish the blaze.

By spring 1929, Lawrence had cleaned and repaired the building. He added a south-side addition for machinery repairs, a lumber shed, truck scales and gas pumps.

The Grahams brought new life to the business and the community. On Christmas Eve 1931, they hosted a celebration in the street out front. A tall Christmas tree stood in the center, decorated with lights. Children received sacks of candy, fruit and nuts. Just after dark, sleigh bells jingled overhead, and Santa Claus appeared on the store’s roof, climbing down onto a parked truck. “The street was packed with cars and saddle horses and people,” Hazel wrote. “We all sang Christmas carols until a late hour.”

In January 1949, a fierce three-day blizzard buried the town. Snow piled high enough to reach rooftops. Trains and roads were blocked for more than a week. Ranchers found supplies – and camaraderie – at the little store. Hazel wrote that the Grahams, and the community, endured together.

Lawrence bought the building in 1950 and operated the store until 1967. It sat vacant for three years before rodeo champion and former Spade cowboy Veldon Morgan purchased it in 1970. He renamed it Morgan’s Cowpoke Haven and launched a new chapter.

Veldon converted the old general store into a custom tack shop. “Dad was always inventing,” said his son, Wade Morgan, now the proprietor. “He made heavy-duty pack gear from nylon and Cordura.”

Among Veldon’s friends and customers were Slim Pickens, the rodeo cowboy turned Hollywood actor, and Walt Searle, editor of Hoof and Horn magazine. Slim, an avid elk hunter, helped test Morgan’s pack system in the mountains. The design used a saddle system secured with two cinches, a breast collar and a britchen to keep it from shifting downhill. Panniers carried the gear; a rain cover protected the top pack. “We sold all that as a unit,” Wade said.

The business took off. National publications featured Morgan’s gear. Cabela’s carried his products. At its peak in the 1980s, the company had 17 sales reps on the road and employed 80 people through the Ellsworth store. A second location opened in Hot Springs, South Dakota. By the 1990s, the Morgans were also manufacturing saddles – over 200 in a single year.

Eventually, Weaver Leather purchased the business and both buildings. Veldon signed a non-compete agreement, and in 1997 Wade bought the Ellsworth store back.

Today, Wade continues the family legacy. He added a secure room for firearm sales and still handcrafts leather holsters and phone holders. While saddle repair has mostly faded out, he rents space for boat and equipment storage and sells boots, hats, books by Sandhills authors, and supplies for hunters, ranchers and travelers passing through.

Not only do visitors appreciate the store’s inventory – everything from durable gloves and classic western wear to knives and sunglasses – they also value its deeper roots. The store itself carries a sense of history, with old photographs and movie posters on the walls and stories tucked into every corner.

One customer from eastern Nebraska said he often stops when he hunts northeast of Ellsworth. Warmly recalling the worn floorboards and familiar jingle of the bell over the door, he noted, “It’s a step back in time.”

And yes – there’s still pop and candy bars for sale just beyond the same wooden door that Charlie Starkweather once entered.

Look up, and you’ll still see the pressed-tin ceiling from 1898. Underfoot, the wooden floors creak with age. A groove in a wooden post marks where Roy Graham used to keep his deli knife. The walls are filled with artifacts from the old Spade Ranch and early days of Ellsworth.

Morgan’s Cowpoke Haven remains well-stocked – not just with gear, but with history.