From every direction you can see them jagged cliffs rising up out of the desert landscape.

The wind is carved their names kissing rock, castle rock, giants thumb, tall rugged,

and sometimes in the light of a late afternoon sun.

ominous.

They, the majestic backdrop to the scrambling little mining town laid out at their base,

Green River Wyoming.

Green River is small.

Kind of a one horse town.

Yeah, it's people referred to like that.

Pretty simple life.

Simple?

Well, in some ways perhaps.

But the story Roger Brawberger is about to tell is not the least bit simple.

Tears the man apart, wondering how even he can absorb what happened on and under the

cliffs of Green River Wyoming.

Before all that it was just fine to grow up there.

Roger Brawberger and his pal Bob Duke.

Funny how kids can be so different and get so close just the same.

They hung out at a mutual friend's house, a cops kid named Meekam, whose dad washed

Roger fall into bad behavior.

Well Bob stayed squeaky clean.

He was always a pretty straight kid.

...