Story Behind the March 1882 Poster Warning “Billy, the Kid”

Ran across this paper by Robert J. “Bob” Stahl at Arizona State University. Fun Old West trivia. Highlight mine.

Since the 1920s, professional and lay historians as well as supporters of the various Billy, the Kid impostors have differed widely in the purposes or meanings of the March 24, 1882 poster that read:

NOTICE!

TO THIEVES, THUGS, FAKIRS AND BUNKO-STEERERS,

Among Whom Are

J. J. Harlan alias “Off Wheeler;” Saw Dust Charlie, Wm. Hedges, Billy, the Kid, Billy  Mullin,  Little  Jack,  The  Cuter, Pockmarked  Kid  and  about  Twenty  Others:

If Found within the Limits of this City after TEN O’CLOCK P.M. this Night, you will be Invited to attend a GRAND NECKTIE PARTY,

The Expense of which will be borne by

100 Substantial Citizens.

Las Vegas, March 24^th, 1882

Those who believe that Billy, the Kid, Bonney was not killed by Pat Garrett at about 12:20 a.m. on Friday, July 15, 1881 in Pete Maxwell’s bedroom use this poster as evidence that Billy Bonney was still alive, lest why would 100 “substantial citizens” of Las Vegas, NM, a town where Billy was well known, want him out of town before 10 p.m. the evening of March 24, 1882. This poster as dated is often one of their primary pieces of ‘hard’ evidence that Billy was alive and known by prominent people to be alive eight months after his reported death in Fort Sumner. Meanwhile, individuals convinced Billy Bonney was killed by Garrett have had difficulty coming up with a convincing reason why this poster would even mention a “Billy, the Kid,” as it made no sense to state that a man, eight months dead and buried 125 miles away, would be ordered to leave the town. Consequently, they searched for a plausible other ‘Billy, the Kid,’ who was or who might have been in and around Las Vegas in March 1882. 

Some contend it was Billy, “the Kid” Wilson, a former member of Bonney’s cow-boy outlaw group. However, this is a stretch because Wilson had been in a Santa Fe jail since late December 1880 ... Others suggest the Billy referred to was “Billy, the Kid,” Claiborne, of Tombstone fame. However, Tombstone and Cochise County newspapers report Claiborne as being in and around the county the entire spring of 1882. So there is no evidence that Claiborne was the “Billy” referred to in the poster. A few have even suggested that the creators of the poster referred to the remains of Billy Bonney that had allegedly been snatched from Billy’s original Fort Sumner grave in late July 1881 and brought to Las Vegas to be assembled as a skeleton in one or more doctors’ offices. The most desperate interpreters of this poster have either printed up a version of the poster with the “1882” replaced by “1881” or argued that the “1882” date on the poster was a misprint, because Billy, the Kid was alive in 1881 but not in 1882. However, this made no sense because Billy Bonney was in a Mesilla jail through March 1881. The one thing that these people have in common is the conviction that a particular “Billy, the Kid” had indeed been in and around Las Vegas for at least a few days or weeks as well as on the day the poster was nailed on street posts and displayed in Las Vegas businesses.

            Actually, none of these explanations is accurate.

In July 1926, James A. Carruth, owner of a printing business in Las Vegas from the mid-1870s on past 1900; owner and editor of the short-lived Las Vegas Free Press; and, after a short time in California, owner of a highly successful printing business in Santa Fe, responded to recent rumors about Billy, the Kid being alive in Texas. He wrote the following undated letter to the Editor printed under the title, “Several Billy The Kids,” in the July 7^th issue of the Santa Fe New Mexican:¹

Editor New Mexican:

            I notice in an article the other day you state that the date given in the poster printed at Las Vegas and now in the rooms of the First National bank, mentioned “Billy the Kid,” though he had been dead a year or so. I printed that poster, and the Billy the Kid mentioned was an imitation of the genuine one. There were several in different towns in New Mexico, and probably the one mentioned by the El Paso writer was one of these.

            The poster was written by Col. J. A. Lockhart, who had not long previously “presided” at a meeting which disposed of a tough, who died on a telegraph pole, and the parties mentioned in the poster did not care to argue any point with the colonel. A party who was going down-town, along Railroad avenue, that night, was stopped by a couple of men with six-shooters on, who asked what he wanted on that street that night, and told him he had better go back up-town. He did so, and went into a restaurant just as a party came in the back door with a suspicious red line around his neck, and said: “Charlie, give me something to eat quick.” Charlie asked him what was the matter with his neck, and he said a crowd of fellows had put a rope around him and hauled him up on a telegraph pole, let him down, and gave him 10 minutes to get out of town, but “I had nothing to eat since breakfast and cannot go without eating.” So Charlie gave him a lunch to go on.

A SANDY MARSHAL

            Colonel Lockhart was a small, wiry man, and full of grit. A party here tells me that he used to be marshal right after the war at Fort Smith, and one time the judge told him to take a posse of 25 men and go out and bring in a man who had been indicted on a very serious charge. He was an ex-Confederate, and Lockhart had to go right into a big settlement of 1,400 or more Confederates, and he went and got his man.²

            The gentleman who told me this says that he once “aided and abetted” the James brothers in their nefarious work to the extent of $75 and a $200 gold watch. This contribution was not voluntary on his part, but at the request of the James brothers, who had Colt & Co. as attorneys, and Colt & Co. under those conditions were powerful attorneys.

            Speaking of hanging bees, another one took place in Las Vegas after wards when a crowd went and took a party out of the east side lockup and went over and started to hang him on a pole right under the window of the office of the district attorney, who came up and said: “For God’s sake, boys, don’t hang him here. There’s a much better pole in the next block. So the boys very kindly took the “candidate” to the better pole, where he was duly hanged.

J. A. CARRUTH.

Carruth made it clear that (a) Col. Lockhart created the wording for the poster, (b) Carruth and his print shop designed, type-set and printed the poster; (c) Lockhart and Carruth were convinced that the ‘real’ Billy, the Kid, Bonney had been dead for about a year; (d) the poster in no way referred to the Billy Bonney who was dead; and (e) the Billy mentioned referred to any and all of the living Williams and Billys in New Mexico who had picked up or who were thinking of picking up the nickname “the Kid.” His letter comes as close to stating the actual purposes and meanings of the poster as we are likely to get.

No Peace, A Steve Dancy Tale

Honest westerns filled with dishonest people.

Progress Report

The latest Steve Dancy Tale has been returned from my editor and I have completed my review of her recommended changes. Again, she has done an excellent job of smoothing out my writing and catching errors. I have transmitted the manuscript to my book interior designer, who will prepare print and eBook formats for publication. As always, we're still flailing a bit with the cover design.

An Odd Setting for a Western

Del Monte Hotel, Monterey, California

No Peace, A Steve Dancy Tale takes place at the Hotel Del Monte in Monterey, California. A resort overlooking the Pacific Ocean may seem an odd setting for a Western, but not to worry, Steve finds a way to get into trouble.

Actually, it's difficult to get further West than the Pacific Ocean, and California had its share of desperadoes. The Hotel Del Monte provides an interesting setting and remains in use today. During WWII, the building and grounds were requisitioned by the navy. In 1951, the Naval Academy postgraduate school moved from Annapolis to facilities in Monterey. The hotel is now called Herrmann Hall, the main building of the Naval Postgraduate School.

No Peace takes place a few years after Steve and Virginia ride off to enjoy their honeymoon at the end of Crossing the Animas. Life has been quiet for the newlyweds, so a family gathering in Monterey seemed to pose no apprehensions. Steve could not be more wrong. A duly elected sheriff and gang leader has consolidated his outlaws with the local Mexican bandits and a Chinese tong that controls the docks. With peace between the three rival gangs, there is no peace for the residents and visitors.

“How can I find this leader of the white gang?” Dancy asked.
“People don’t go looking for him. Ever. He sends people to find you. If you did find him, you’d be out of your element … and outnumbered. He never meets anyone alone. He’s always got mean killers around him. Ruthless men, capable of anything.”
 “I have friends,” I said.
“A gentleman like you doesn’t have the right kind of friends for men like this. My advice: pay the ransom, go home.”
“I may pay the ransom, and I certainly will go home.” I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “If you won’t tell me how to find him, at least tell me his name?”
Nelson looked down at his lap and shook his head. Eventually, he looked up at me and shrugged. “Listen, his name is unimportant.” He leaned forward, hands folded, both forearms on his desk. “Stay away from him. He’s a murdering cutthroat who’d skin alive his own mother if there was money to be had. These are bad people. Very bad. Pay … and get the hell out of here.”

Honest westerns filled with dishonest characters.

Road Trip From Seattle to Omaha

My sister lives in Long Beach, California and my brother in Kailua, Hawaii. I live mostly in Omaha, Nebraska, but spend winters in San Diego, California. We managed to get together at least once a year, usually in San Diego and Long Beach. This year, my brother-in-law talked us into a road trip. I'm glad he did.

Since he and my sister would be in Washington visiting his family, my brother and I decided to fly to Seattle and do a road trip to Omaha. After seeing our itinerary, my wife decided to join us, making five in one car. In those kind of close quarters, you need to get along.

Great trip. (If you're into family movies, here's a video recorded for posterity.) We traveled through Washington, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, South Dakota, Iowa, and Nebraska. Actually, my wife and I traveled through those states, but we chose to remain at home while the remainder of our crew drove back to California.

This is a big and beautiful country. If you haven't leisurely traveled the northwest, put it on your bucket list.

A Smith & Wesson beats four aces.

I've always identified poker with the old west. Jenny’s Revenge starts in Denver, Colorado at the renown Inter-Ocean Hotel. Steve Dancy and his friends get entangled in a crooked poker game that delays their planned trip to Durango. In The Shopkeeper, the first book in the series, the characters play whist instead of poker. I did this as a homage to the 1902 novel The Virginian, where Owen Wister had his cowboys playing whist. I found this interesting because Wister actually experienced the western frontier by visiting Wyoming from 1885 through the 1890s.

Perhaps Maverick had something to do with me connecting poker and the the Old West..

Speaking of crooked card games, here is a classic from WC Fields. They don’t get more crooked than this.

Honest westerns filled with dishonest characters.

Guns and Horses: Getting it Right

Western writers are like other fiction writers in that they have super powers. They can bend time, compress space, and sweep away boring people, mundane tasks, and toilet needs.  Writers can magically have their characters do and say whatever’s necessary to incessantly move the story forward. Instead of wielding a wand, writers brandish a keyboard. No wonder so many writers are egotistical.

The exception: John Wayne got guns right

There is one major difference between Western writers and other authors—they need to get guns and horses right. Western enthusiasts will suspend disbelief in every other aspect of a written story, but not guns and horses. Odd, because Western movies enjoy forbearance that a novel does not. A film can run a horse forever, fire eight shots from a six shooter, or shoot with precision from horseback. Western readers, on the other hand, tend to be sticklers for accuracy about these two areas when they occur in print. That’s why I use gun and horse specialists to proof my Westerns.

What brought all this to mind was a Cracked article about “6 Stupid Gun Myths that Everyone Believes (Thanks to the movies).” The piece deals mostly with modern guns, but a few of the 6 myths relate to nineteenth century guns. For example, a dropped Colt Peacemaker could go off. That was not a myth in the olden days. Reputedly, it happened to Wyatt Earp when he sat in a saloon chair. That is why Westerners often kept the chamber under the hammer empty, making their pistol a five-shooter. 

“Shotguns Are Room-Clearing Murder Factories” applies equally to the Western double barreled shotgun. Marshals who held off a lynching party with a shotgun looked threatening, but could only kill two vigilantes before reaching for a pistol. As Wild Bill Hickok and Bat Masterson attested, the myth that "Deadly on the Gun Range = Deadly in Real Life” is apropos for gunfighters in the Wild West.

The article is a fun read, but unfortunately many of the movie clips have been disabled due to copyright issues. Too bad. The clips that work do a fine job of illustrating Hollywood gun myths.

Honest westerns filled with dishonest characters.

What am I writing?

The New York Times recently ran an opinion piece titled, “Don’t ask what I’m writing.” The article deals with writers’ uncertainty during the initial stage of a novel, and suggests friends shouldn’t ask too many early questions because it can be unnerving. True. 

I had a good friend ask about The Return when I first started and she was aghast when I said Dancy and his friends were going to New Jersey. She begged me not to take my Western series east. She loved the West and liked the fact that each book moved around the American frontier. Taking my characters to New Jersey and New York City seemed to her like some kind of betrayal. Her angst gave me pause, but after some additional thought, I went ahead anyway. I went ahead, but I never spoke to her again about the book, nor did I tell her about another major change in the lead character’s life.

Cowboy City in Farmingdale New Jersey

This friend is one of my rough draft readers who I trust to tell me the truth. She’s a reliable compass, so I was apprehensive about her take on my new novel. I shouldn’t have worried. She loved it. Her first words were, “I was wrong. I enjoyed seeing Western attitudes play out in an Eastern setting.”

I like fish-out-of-water stories. I took Steve Dancy, the New York shopkeeper, to the frontier for that very reason. He didn’t fit, but he had to adapt to survive. Now I let him return home to discover that he no longer easily fits in the east either. I also thought it was high time for him to have a grownup romantic interest. The entire series has been about Dancy ‘s growth and these two development have set up some interesting scenarios for the future. When I didn’t discuss it with others, I was confident about where I was taking the story. But there were moments when I feared I might be harming a great character and storyline. In the end, The Return has received faster and better reviews than the other books in the series. What a relief.

This is why I like the final advice of the New York Times piece:

1. Trust a few, necessary voices. 

2. Try, as much as possible, to avoid torturing these brave souls with your own insecurities. 

3. Shut up and write.

Return from New York City

We had a great visit to the Big Apple. Father/daughter cruise around Manhattan, grandson playing a double header on Randall's Island, a bowling outing on Chelsea Pier, plus monopoly, XBox Madden Football, and myriad other games. I don't know how many times we made the trip between the West and East side. Whew! I'm tired and happy to be sitting quietly in Omaha. Except, not so quietly. My daughter reminded me we have a formal event this evening and her kids are anxious to see us after school today. If it wasn't so much fun, I'd run for cover.

One of the things I need to figure out is a new writing schedule. Since moving for Arizona to Omaha, my schedule has been erratic. The grandchildren have been the easiest. After all, they go to school during the week. The big problem is that I had forgotten how much work it was to change a legal residence. A new mortgage, cars, licenses, insurance, address changes, utilities, voter registration, etc, etc all demand personal attention. Then we have this new house we intend to wreck, then refurbish and re-skin. This is a big change for someone used to spending five or six hours a day sitting in a chair writing about his friends' adventures.

That's what my characters are: friends. I miss them. Besides, it takes nearly a year to get a book written and published. I've begun the research, which means I’m reading about the historical location and plot points. It’s all good prep work, but it’s also an easy way to procrastinate. I need to get seriously committed to writing. That’s when I get excited and can’t wait to get back to the keyboard.

Until now, I wrote an entirely different book between each of the Steve Dancy Tales. I wanted my approach to Steve and his friends to remain fresh, and I thought regular breaks from the series would do the trick. I believe the tactic has helped, but also has hurt building a stronger following. Two years between books causes some readers to wander off to another place and time. Besides, the Dancy books sell very well and the series has built an ardent fan base. So … my next book will be the fifth in the series.

Where I go from there, I’ll decide next year.

Steve Dancy Tales

The Wild West—an Escape from Despair

Jacob Riis was a late nineteenth century social reformer who used his camera to expose parts of New York City avoided by the smart set. He ventured into the poor districts ruled by gangs. Daily life for the unfortunate inhabitants was dismal and violent … far more violent than the infamous Wild West. The film, Gangs of New York, focused on a small time frame covered by the 1928 book by Herbert Asbury.

Jabob Riis

In The Return, I wanted to show New York’s explosive progress in technology and wealth creation, while a few blocks away gangs and lawlessness dominated neighborhoods. A common misconception is that the Wild West was ignorant, lawless and lacking in basic comforts, while eastern cities were cultured and ordered, with the basic amenities close at hand. Eastern city slums couldn’t hold a candle to safety and opportunity on the frontier. For many, the West was a chance for a new start in life, one with more promise than a bleak future in the East. Hope drove the mass migrations to the frontier. People endured hardship on the chance of securing a better future for themselves and their families. In truth, that is the great story of the Wild West.

Jacob Riis

Jacob Riis

Jacob Riis

The Return, A Steve Dancy Tale

Turning a house into a home

Yesterday we walked our new house with a contractor. Whew, do we have a lot of work to do. Just about everything we own is in storage awaiting re-engineered heating, new flooring, scrapped ceilings, updated plumbing, and lots of paint. Guess our stuff will be hidden away in a dark warehouse awhile. In the meantime, we’ll stay in an apartment and make frequent visits to our renovation project. I already warned the contractor to expect to see us daily, so he should bid accordingly.

Our house may not be ready, but family and Omaha friends have already made us feel welcome. We were even welcomed by the Department of Motor Vehicles and the Douglas County Treasurer. The people in Omaha sure are friendly.

I’m hoping the temporary quarters will give me plenty of time to write. I already started researching the next Steve Dancy Tale. That means I’m reading books about the places Steve and his friends might visit. Reading about the Old West is fun, but I’m getting anxious to start writing. Especially, since I’ve come up with a tentative title. I hesitate to share it because it may change, but for now it will be called, Jenny’s Revenge.

A Surfer in Nebraska?

We arrived Friday evening in Omaha. It was late and we were very tired. Eight hundred and sixty miles of driving in a single day tends to do that to a worn out old body. I can’t imagine the hardships the pioneers endured. Brave souls.

Omaha, Nebraska is the geographic center of the nation. In the early days of the Cold War, the Pentagon put the Strategic Air Command headquarters outside Omaha to make it harder to hit. This means you can’t live in the United States and be further from a breaking wave.  So why would a lifelong surfer head for Nebraska? To be close to my grandkids who live in Omaha and closer to the ones who live in NYC. Besides, we still have a small condo in Pacific Beach to escape harsh winters on the Great Plains. Ironically, we bought our San Diego place to escape the scorching Arizona summers. (Arizona has two seasons: winter and hell.) I just need to convert from a summer surfer to a winter surfer. Thank goodness for wetsuits.

I’m going to enjoy writing Westerns from Nebraska. Omaha and the surrounding territory have a great Western heritage. In some respects, pockets of Arizona remain the Wild West, but Omaha nurtured the move west for many of the pioneers. Besides, it will be a great take-off point for trips to South Dakota, Colorado, Wyoming, and Montana. These are all states I’ve visited several times, but want to spend more time exploring. It all ought to be great fun.

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Modern Wetsuits, A Wonder and a Pain in the Butt

Steve Dancy in Love?

Steve Dancy has had a rocky romantic life in the first three novels. His mother pushed him to marry a young lady who would enhance the family’s wealth and connections, but New York City socialites and socializing bored Steve. In defiance, he sold everything and followed Horace Greeley advice to “Go west, young man.” 




Steve assumed he would observe the frontier and write a great literary classic about the Wild West. He found enough adventure to fill several books and made a few male friends along the way. In his wanderings, he also encountered many different types of women, but Steve argued with every one of them. Needless to say, this was not the best way to strike up a relationship.

Things change in The Return.  Steve remains clumsy with the opposite sex, but even a dunderhead can be successful on occasion. I’d tell you what happens, but why ruin the suspense. You’ll just have to buy a copy and read for yourself.

As for me, I'm leaving the scorching heat of Arizona for Pacific Beach. I'll get in a little surfing between playing with my grandkids, who are flying in from Nebraska. You know, I think my granddaughter is the right age to start bogie boarding. This is gonna be fun.

The First Movie Studio—And a Mea Culpa

Edison's Black Maria, West Orange New Jersey

Edison’s first movie studio was in West Orange, New Jersey. It was nicknamed the Black Maria after the stuffy paddy wagons of the day. According to Wikipedia, “The first films shot at the Black Maria, a tar-paper-covered, dark studio room with a retractable roof, included segments of magic shows, plays, vaudeville performances (with dancers and strongmen), acts from Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, various boxing matches and cockfights, and scantily-clad women.” Let’s see. Edison started the film industry with Westerns, comedy, violence, and soft-porn. Seems that when the movie industry migrated to Hollywood, the moguls in charge adopted the same themes.

This very first studio shows the movie industry's predilection to innovate. Notice that the roof can be lifted to catch the light and the entire building is on a rail to rotate with the sun.

Edison Motion Picture Studio

What was not filmed at Black Maria was The Great Train Robbery mentioned in my last post. The first feature film was actually shot at the Edison Motion Picture Studio in the Bronx, New York City. My error. At the Black Maria, Edison did film acts from Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, so I’ll still award New Jersey honorary Western status.

Speaking of Hollywood, according to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, the movie industry did not leave New York because of the weather.

“Motion Picture Patents Company, also called Movie Trust, Edison Trust, or The Trust, a trust of 10 film producers and distributors who attempted to gain complete control of the motion-picture industry in the United States from 1908 to 1912. The company, which was sometimes called the Movie Trust, possessed most of the available motion-picture patents, especially those of Thomas A. Edison, for camera and projection equipment. It entered into a contract with Eastman Kodak Company, the largest manufacturer of raw film stock, to restrict the supply of film to licensed members of the company.

The company was notorious for enforcing its restrictions by refusing equipment to uncooperative filmmakers and theatre owners and for its attempts to terrorize independent film producers. It limited the length of films to one and two reels (10 to 20 minutes) because movie audiences were believed incapable of enjoying more protracted entertainment. The company also forbade the identification of actors because popular entertainers might demand higher salaries. By 1912, however, the success of European and independent producers and the violent opposition of filmmakers outside the company weakened the Movie Trust, which, in 1917, was dissolved by court order. The Movie Trust, which was based in New York and other cities of the East Coast, was indirectly responsible for the establishment of Hollywood, Calif., as the nation’s film capital, since many independent filmmakers migrated to the latter town to escape the Trust’s restrictive influence in the East.”

Owen Wister’s Virginian Would not Approve

Poor, but smiling nonetheless

Last month, Paul Mountjoy of Virginia wrote a snarky article for the Washington Times website titled, “The Old West: When men were men and women knew their place.” He opens with the following paragraph. 

“How many times have we heard men declare of the days of the old West, ‘men were men and women stayed at home and knew their place’? This is a common refrain after folks watch a movie based on the period.”

How many times? None, that I've encountered. This is not a common refrain of Western film enthusiasts. It is a writer’s cheap trick. Attribute a sexist comment to something you intend to denigrate.

Mountjoy proceeds to make commonplace observations about the true nature of gunfights in the Old West, list everyday hardships as if they were unique to the frontier, and reminds us that people died of disease and attacks without good medical assistance. The West, of course, was completely void of compassion due to men “witnessing 25 thousand deaths in a matter of days” during the Civil War. (I'm sure this callousness never afflicted men in the actual battleground state of Virginia.) Mountjoy has a penchant for hyperbole. He also claimed prostitutes in the West took “up to 50 or more customers nightly, more often than not, in an alley between two buildings.”

Perhaps Mountjoy’s motive is to promote employment for his friends in the nation’s capital. He writes, “If their farmer husband became disabled and had no older sons to take over the farm, they were in deep trouble. There were no government programs to help.” That seals it; the real Old West was nothing like the movies. And I thought White House Down was a documentary.

Mountjoy misses the whole point of Western mythology. I wrote an article titled, “Is the Mythologyof the Old West Dead?” Here's one paragraph. 

“The West, outer space, the future, or a make-believe land represents a new beginning in a fresh place away from home—the shrugging off of disappointments and a chance to start all over again. The romance and adventure of frontiers draws people desperate to escape the travail of their current existence. We've seen this in real life with the migrations to the New World and the Old West, but today many people satisfy this longing vicariously with fiction. If you're poor, your family makes you miserable, you've committed an act that offends society, or wanderlust has gripped you, then the adventure and limitless opportunity of a frontier beckons like a siren's call. Emigrating to a frontier means you get a do-over in a land with no rules, no fences, no referees.” 

It’s the absence of civilization that draws stalwart people to a frontier. They can start over and build a better life. Maybe they won’t, but they’re willing to take risks just for the chance. Listing hardships never dissuaded pioneers, whether they were setting off for Plymouth or Tombstone. They were a tough and hopeful breed. We lament the demise of the frontier and the Old West because we need more of these courageous people.

Modern Gadgets Can’t Beat Kit Carson

Last night we arrived back in Arizona safe and sound. It was a great road trip through Nevada and none of us played a single slot machine. We were far too busy. On Saturday, we visited the Reno Gun Show. Compared to Arizona shows, Reno had many more displays of 19^th century revolvers and rifles. The vendors were highly knowledgeable about Old West guns and I picked up a few good reference books that will help with the Steve Dancy Tales.

On the drive back we discussed our favorite experiences. Visiting with old friends was at the top of everyone’s list and Fort Churchill at the bottom. As we cruised along the highway, we agreed that we’d probably never make a return visit to the old cavalry fort. I think we riled Kit Carson because at almost that exact moment we saw a turn-off sign for Fort Churchill. We had been chatting away and missed a turn fifty miles back and had driven in a circle back toward Carson City. Bummer. 

We would have made lousy scouts, especially since we had Garmons, iPhones, a digital compass, and web connected computers inside the car. Of course, we would have needed to stop talking long enough to actually glance at one of these devices, or perhaps look out the window at a highway sign. 

Oh well, when we reminisce about the trip years from now, our first recollection will be about getting lost with a car full of computers that would’ve made the Apollo moon-bound astronauts jealous.

Author Interview with Robert Peecher

Robert Peecher, author and journalist, has published an interview with me on his blog.

Q. When you started writing did you know Steve Dancy’s character, or did he develop for you through the telling of the story?

Best: I knew his character from the start, but that said, every character must grow or the story will become stale. By the fourth book, he is a much more mature character than at the beginning of the series. I had nothing to do with it. He learned and grew as he ventured around the frontier and I scribbled down what he did and how he did it.

The Steve Dancy Tales

You can read the full interview at robertpeecher. 

John C.H. Grabill, Renown Western Photographer

"Branding cattle" Six cowboys branding cattle in front of a house. 1891

Last week I posted "Preserving Western culture through photography."

Don Schimmel takes beautiful contemporary photographs that help preserve our Western culture, but John C.H. Grabill was actually there to take photographs of the real Old West. The Denver Post has 66 of Grabill’s photographs posted on their website. He submitted 188 photographs to the Library of Congress for copyright protection. Grabill’s subjects included cowboys, native Americans, trains, stages, wagons, landscapes, and towns. The contrast between Native American encampments and frontier towns is interesting. He is especially renowned for his photographs of Deadwood, South Dakota and the Wounded Knee Massacre.

 Washing and panning gold, Rockerville, Dak. Old timers, Spriggs, Lamb and Dillon at work

Since the characters in my Steve Dancy series are miners, I found the mining pictures helpful, especially the heavy equipment used by the big operations.

You can see all 66 photographs by following this link.

Preserving Western culture through photography

Don Schimmel Photography

There are many ways to preserve our Western Culture. I prefer books, of course. I have no visual or musical talents, but I still appreciate Western film, music, and photography. Schimmel has a talent for catching a mood. Take a look at his site through the link above and enjoy some great photographs.

Saline River Chronicle reviews The Shopkeeper

"This is a compelling narrative and as good as the best of classic Westerns. James D. Best is a name to remember."

Read full book review at Saline River Chronical

Louis L'Amour, The Read Deal

If your name was Louis L'Amour and you wrote about men tougher than nails, would you adopt a penname? Frederick Faust used Max Brand to publish his rough and tumble Westerns. Of course, that was partly because Faust was a Teutonic name, and the Great War had made Germans unpopular.

Saul David, editorial director of Bantam Books, told Donald Jackson a story he included in a Smithsonian Magazine article. "That was the heyday of the paperback Western. We had lost Luke Short, our Western Star, and I was in California looking for a new one. I got a call - the word was out that I was in town - and a voice said, 'This is Louis L'Amour, you've never heard of me but I want to see you right now.' He came up with an envelope, made a pitch and told me to read his samples. He said he was going to be the next great Western writer and we'd do well to take him on. I read it while he waited. It was Hondo, and it knocked me out. I signed him to a long-term contract on the spot … David's boss in New York had doubts about their new author's name - L'Amour on a paperback sounded like ‘a Western written in lipstick,’ he said - but no one had grit enough to ask him to change it, ‘I didn't want to get punched out,’ David explains.”

At the time David met L’Amour (1908-1988), he was nearly fifty. He had mellowed a bit in middle age, but could still throw a hefty punch. For almost his entire life he would spend over an hour each day lifting weights, skipping rope, and punching a bag.

It might seem that L’Amour started late in the writing field, but that would be incorrect for two reason. First, he wrote for the pulps before WWII. (He took an extended hiatus during his enlistment.)  After the war, he sold at least one story per week prior to the film Hondo. There is a legend that John Wayne made L’Amour’s career when he bought the theatrical rights to a short story that became Hondo. Wayne also endorsed of the later novel as the best Western he had ever read. The Duke certainly gave L’Amour a big boost, but L’Amour was making a decent living from writing prior to Hondo. He had already sold several novels to paperback publishers and had sold several other projects for movies and TV.

The second reason would be research. He spent his early years living the life he would later write about. During his upbringing in North Dakota, his father’s veterinary practice and his other relatives exposed him to ranching and genuine cowboys. As a youth, L’Amour traveled the world as an itinerate worker. He hoboed, skinned cattle, baled hay, worked in mines, saw mills and lumber yards, circled the globe as a merchant seaman, and boxed all over the globe for money. He went out of his way to meet lawmen and outlaws. He traveled everywhere, noticed everything, and read constantly. He bragged that from 1928 until 1942 he read three books a week. By the time he met David, his life experiences and pulp writing had thoroughly prepared him to be a novelist.

Louis L'Amour wrote over one hundred books, of which more than 30 have been made into movies. He was extremely prolific and once signed a thirty book contract with Bantam. His books have been translated into over fifteen languages. A few days before he passed away, L’Amour was notified that sales of his books had topped two million. Today, that number is well in excess of three million. None of his titles have ever been out of print.

He loved writing and storytelling. He said, "I can transport myself to another time and place and put myself there." 

Critics panned his dialogue and one-dimensional characters, but praised his pacing and historical accuracy. L'Amour dismissed their criticism. "If you write about a bygone period east of the Mississippi River, it's a historical novel. If it's west of the Mississippi it's a Western." He added, "I don't give a damn what anyone else thinks, I know it's literature and I know it will be read 100 years from now." 

Twenty-five years after his death, his prediction looks accurate.