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9th Street: The Fiery Epicenter of Woodward's Dark Tales.
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🔥 HELL ON 9TH STREET: The Wild, Wicked Heart of Old Woodward |
THE RED DIRT RIVIERA: Inside Woodward’s Forgotten Sin Strip |
In the dust-choked dawn of the late 1880s, where red dirt met iron rails, Woodward, Oklahoma wasn’t just a dot on the map—it was a full-blown boomtown on the brink of bedlam.
Founded in 1887 where the Fort Reno Military Road intersected the Southern Kansas Railway, Woodward was built on the backs of cattlemen, fortune-hunters, and wanderers men who chased dreams, drank hard, and didn’t mind breaking the rules. But what truly put Woodward on the map was what lay just beyond it.
North of 9th Street, past the clatter of train wheels and the cries of commerce, the air changed. It smelled like smoke, whiskey, and perfume—a signal to every man stepping off the train that he’d arrived in the red light district, a haven of 23 saloons and 15 brothels that didn’t just tempt sin they celebrated it.
They called it the “Devil’s Strip,” and for good reason. It was here that cowboys fresh from the trail swapped cattle for coin, and coin for comfort. Sooty gamblers, traveling salesmen, and wide-eyed drifters found what they were looking for and a lot of what they weren’t. Some came for a night. Some never left.
By 1893, with the opening of the Cherokee Outlet, Woodward’s wildness exploded. Land-hungry settlers poured in, and the town became a bustling, rowdy junction of lawmen, outlaws, and entrepreneurs. Every gunshot in the saloon was as much part of the economy as a railcar of cattle.
And yet, amid all the chaos, there was rhythm. The red light district wasn't just a moral powder keg it was a business. It brought money, built hotels, and kept the railroad running hot with passengers. It was the beating heart of a town still deciding whether it was a community… or a frontier carnival.
Today, little remains of the brothels or the old saloons that made Woodward infamous.
But the stories?
They linger in whispers through downtown alleys and late-night porch talks. This was Woodward at its wildest and whether you love it or loathe it, it’s part of who we are. |