The Wild West 365 by Michael Wallis

[The following is paraphrased from a single page of the volume.]

So, in 1881, George “Big Nose” Parrott decides to become noticeably richer.
• He attempts to rob a payroll train east of the town of Rawlins, Wyoming.
• Things do not go well and “Big Nose” winds up killing two lawmen in the process.
• He is eventually apprehended and taken to the Rawlins’ jail.
• The citizens of Rawlins decide incarceration ain’t quite good enough so an approximate 200 of them converge on the jail and take him for a short ride where they hang him from a telegraph pole.
• Once he has been displayed long enough, the undertaker delivers the remains to Dr. John Osborne who hopes to discover abnormalities in the brain that led to Parrott’s nefarious ways.
• First, he makes a death-mask of the corpse.
• Then he saws off the top of the skull and finds nothing untoward.
• Being the industrious sort, he proceeds to skin the entire body.
• Dr. Osborne sends the skin to a tannery in Denver with these instructions: “Make a pair of shoes and leave the nipples on.”
• The shoes arrive, but sans nipples, merely chest skin. He is disappointed but still loves the footwear and wears them proudly.
• Incidentally his medicine bag was also made of Mr. Parrott’s exterior.
• Wyoming being a progressive sort of place also housed Dr. Lillian Nelson, the first female physician in the region.
• Dr. Osborne in an act of collegiality gifts Parrott’s skullcap to Dr. Nelson.
• She is touched and uses it as both an ashtray and doorstop till her dying days.
• BTW-The skinless rest of Mr. Parrott was sealed into a whiskey barrel and buried.
• Lest we think Doctors Osborne and Nelson were anomalies and folks looked askance at such behavior.
• Dr. Osborne went on to be popular enough to win the governorship of Wyoming and he proudly wore his special shoes to the inaugural ball.
• He also later served in Congress and as the first assistant secretary of state under President Woodrow Wilson.
• And yes, he wore his shoes.
• Different times, huh?

This magnificently illustrated volume has one entry for each day of the year but that makes it sound like a trivial “fact of the day” book. Wallis has found so many odd, outre, off-the-beaten path aspects of the Wild West they left me shaking my head asking, “How have I never heard of this?”

I have been immersed in Western history for some time, and yes, some here is familiar, but there is such a wealth of the unfamiliar presented this book that it easily soars to the top of my favorite non-fiction in the genre.

Kudos, Mr. Wallis!

Indian Scout Talks A Guide for Boy Scouts and Camp Fire Girls by Charles A. Eastman

Have you ever wondered why most great men were born in humble homes and passed their early youth in the open country? There a boy is accustomed to see the sun rise and set every day; there rocks and trees are personal friends, and his geography is born with him, for he carries a map of the region in his head. In civilization there are many deaf ears and blind eyes. Because the average boy in the town has been deprived of close contact and intimacy with nature, what he has learned from books he soon forgets, or is unable to apply. All learning is a dead language to him who gets it at second hand.

The intended audience for this 1914 work may have been one of active youth looking to up their outdoor skills, but this grown man in his 50's still found much to enjoy.

It is simple and homiletic but often the resounding texts are. 

Wildwood Boys by James Carlos Blake

He stares at the utterly uninterested stars and berates himself in a howling silence, curses himself for an irresolute weakling and for being the sort of pathetic fool who wishes he could have a moment back again so he might use it properly. Fool! A man takes an action or he does not-and then the moment is fled to wherever all moments in relentless succession do irretrievably flee.

A masterful novelized account of the life of William “Bloody Bill” Anderson and all the rawness of the days of bushwhacking.

It is bloody, profane, poetic, poignant, in short, a work of art. I have no problem elevating Mr. Blake to the status that is usually reserved for Cormac McCarthy.

I enjoy McCarthy’s work but there is something more accessible in Blake and no less beautifully addressed. 

Easily a masterpiece within the genre.

But…not for the faint-hearted or delicate dispositioned, events are portrayed accurately.

Quote of the Day: Elfego Baca

Elfego Baca upon being asked his law enforcement philosophy.

“If there is one to be buried and one to be tried, I’m going to be the one to be tried.”

Resolution by Robert B. Parker

Rife with resonant observations

“I bet I’d feel a lot safer with a gun,” Billie said.

“And you’d have reason to,” Virgil said. “But you ain’t brave without a gun, you ain’t brave.”

Or this one…

“Or at least calm,” Virgil said. Calm’s probably better than quick, and scared don’t make you calm.”

Or this one…

“It’s funny you know? If you boys are right, then the way you know a guy’s not scared if he don’t start trouble. And the way you know if he is he does.”

“Some truth to it,” Virgil said. “You know what you can do, and you know that you’re willing to do it, and you don’t have to show anybody anything. It’s kind of calming.”

Or this…

Virgil sat alone near the back of the saloon sipping a beer, looking at nothing, and seeing everything, the way he did.

Or this…

Swann continued to meet Virgil’s stare. But it was a waste of his time. Virgil was probably unlike anyone Swann had ever seen. Virgil didn’t care if you met his stare or not. He didn’t care if he intimidated you or not. He was just gathering information.

“You got any plans, Cole?” Lujack asked.

Without taking his eyes off Swann, Virgil said, “I’m forumlatin’.”

“And you heard me,” Lujack said, “About not hanging around too long.”

“I did,” Virgil said.

“Hope you’ll keep it in mind,” Lujack said.

He continued to look at Swann.

“Would,” Swann said to Virgil, “I was you.”

“One of the things I’m real happy about,” Virgil said, “is you ain’t me.”

Those brief passages illustrate the tight compact nature of this narrative. What can’t be conveyed without reading is how beautifully the author conveys the power of silence, the strength of pregnant pauses in the midst of tension.

These sections often say more than words or actions themselves.

A beautiful work.

Mister St John by Loren Estleman

“You ever ride posse before, Mr. Rawlings?” asked St John, when a door had closed behind her at the end of the hall.

“This is my first one.”

“Then here’s your first lesson. Don’t ever make excuse for the man in charge. If he’s any good he won’t need them, and if he’s not, he doesn’t deserve them”

A rock-solid novel from Estleman with a lawman past his time forming a posse with an also aged Indian tracker, a legally-blind sharpshooter, a Sunday school teacher with less than saintly predictions, and two banditos with less than noble motives.

They are trailing the notorious Buckner gang, and the company of these brigands is equally intriguing.

Rife with flavor and observation.

“I remember him saying it was the cold weather that saved you. Ten degrees warmer and you’d have bled to death half way there.”

“And if that bullet had been rimfire instead of center-fire it would have flattened out against my hip bone and you’d have plucked her out with tweezers the same day and I wouldn’t be feeling it every time it rains. How things might have gone and how they went don’t have much to do with each other.”

You’ll even pick up some useful advice for on the scout.

“The area behind the rocks smelled of ammonia. He wondered idly if the woman used it too. Nodesty was an early casualty on the scout. His urine steamed in the cold clear air.”

“Woman Watching built a good Indian fire scarcely bigger than a man’s hand (‘white man make fire big, sit back, no good. Indian make fire small, stay close, get warm.)

All in all, a superlative effort.

The Man We Called Jones by T.V. Olsen

When he saw who it was hailed him, he looked ready to laugh. Almost. He peered sharp at Jones, and something seemed to shut it off in his throat before it started.

“Carradine,” Jones said. Carradine, you brag something fierce. Back it.”

The reliable T.V. Olsen takes a formulary tack in this familiar tale of a man failing to escape his past. It has been included in the roster of 100 Best Western Short Stories, and while I have had many fine reading experiences with the author, I fail to see why this one makes the cut.

It’s not bad, it’s just that it’s not a particular stand-out either.