WHITEWOOD - Cory Heckenliable took a philosophical stance Tuesday afternoon as he stood in his driveway and looked across the street to where the cow pasture used to be.

"We miss the cows," he said as heavy machinery rumbled behind a massive dirt berm, churning up a plume of reddish dust that drifted into the neighborhood. "It's progress. I don't know if it's good progress or not. We'll just have to wait and see."

Heckenliable won't have to wait long. Tonight, the new Boneyard Saloon/Concert & Event Center across the street begins an 11-night run of open-air entertainment that will bring thousands of rumbling motorcycles and their party-prone riders to what was once the quiet side of town.

Now, the east edge of Whitewood will be party central, thanks to a family business that is stretching its development dreams from Stillwater, Minn., to this generally quiet community of 850 nestled unobtrusively up against the northern edge of the Black Hills.

Jim Junker, his wife, Deb, and their three adult children, Chad, Josh and Jessica, were hustling back and forth Tuesday from the 39-acre Boneyard compound on a hill near Whitewood Cemetery to their office downtown. Chad took a break long enough to quickly describe the family's plans for the future of the Boneyard, now partly built after the project survived a wind storm that wrecked the venue's original structure.

"We lost the main building to a tornado, but we didn't lose the long-term commitment," Chad Junker said, sitting in the shade near the air-conditioned tent structure that will get them through this year's version of the Sturgis motorcycle rally. "It's all on the line here, to be quite frank."

It's all in the open, too, starting with a sprawling field of concrete covering four acres, a Woodstock-like outdoor performances stage and parking for 20,000. The ground, on a rise clearly visible to travelers on nearby Interstate 90, seems full of potential.

Chad Junker said the entertainment will stretch well beyond the annual motorcycle rally, a two-week whirling dervish of commerce centered in Sturgis five miles to the east. Along with drawing bikers and other entertainment hounds to the concerts during the rally, the Junkers hope to extend the entertainment options for months on either side of the event - possibly to include extreme fighting and other sporting events, car shows and Christian rock concerts.

After success in the hospitality/entertainment business in Stillwater, they came to Whitewood after visiting six or seven Sturgis rallies.

"We're open to anything," Chad Junker said. "As a family-owned company, we like hands-on. I plan to be out here eight to 10 months a year. I love it here."

As some residents, including city councilman Heckeliable, fret about the loss of tranquility, many others - a majority, it seems - are anxious for the exciting possibilities the Junkers bring to town.

"I think it's great," city public works employee Billy Heisinger said Tuesday afternoon. "If it brings money it's good for us, because this little town needs it."

Shake-out concerts last weekend at the Boneyard featured Aaron Tippin, which drew about 2,500, and The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, which attracted 5,500 or more.

"It was nice," Heisinger said. "There was other stuff going on the first night. Then, I think word got around, and more people showed up the next night."

Heisinger said concerns about concert noise seemed to be overblown. His parents live a few blocks from the venue, and the music was barely noticeable, he said.

In the Whitewood City Library on Tuesday afternoon, Dale O'Dea tended the check-out desk and praised the Junkers' resilient development commitment.

"They've had such hard luck with that storm, I'd really like to see them succeed," she said. "It was a wonderful concert last weekend, and I didn't think it was too loud."

Heckenliable and other Boneyard critics were somewhat surprised the sounds from the first weekend were more subdued than expected.

"We were surprised. It wasn't as noisy as we would have thought," said Jennifer Albrandt, a Whitewood resident who lives about four blocks from the Boneyard property.

"But anytime you put a concert venue inside the city limits, I think you have problems."

Like Heckenliable, Albrandt worries about traffic problems and the inevitable disruption of community quiet. And she struggles with both the name of the venue and its location bordering the cemetery.

"My mom is buried 10 feet from the property line, so I think it's disrespectful," Albrandt said. "I think bordering our community cemetery and calling it the Boneyard is a little crass."

Chad Junker said the family didn't mean any disrespect to the cemetery or those buried there. Initially, they were considering the name "Junkyard," as a play off the family's last name. Then "Graveyard" was suggested, but soon rejected.

"We said we weren't going to disrespect the dead," he said.

Boneyard evolved during discussions as a more appropriate compromise, he said.

Most people in town seem to accept the name and embrace the Junker family's plans for development, city finance officer Brenda Lindstrom said. The Junkers convinced many doubters when they lost their main building to the storm and still found a way to open in time for the rally.

"It was almost done, and it was really spectacular," Lindstrom said. "And to lose that and come back like this, it was really quite amazing. It's really exciting. They had a drive and motivation that's really something."Even Cory Heckenliable admits that. He appreciates the tall dirt berm on the property line to provide a sound and sight buffer from the concert site. And he believes the Junkers are sincere in their commitment to control dust and sound and do their best to mitigate negative impacts on the nearby residential areas.

"They're doing everything they're supposed to do," he said. "We'll just have to see how it goes during the rally."

He and his wife and their three daughters also will have to get used to life without the pastoral sights and sounds of the cow pasture across the street.

"We've been here four years," Heckenliable said. "We figured something would come in over there, maybe another housing development. We didn't figure on this."

Contact Kevin Woster at 394-8413 or kevin.woster@rapidcityjournal.com