A Fountain Full of Bad Endings

November 26, 2013
   Still deep in Fountainville. So many connections and bizarreness in New Mexico's most heinous, unsolved crime. You've got not one, but two Alberts who hate each other: Albert Jennings Fountain and Albert Fall. Oliver Lee, Pat Garrett and Albert Fall were all staunch Democrats, but Garrett was brought in by the Republicans in Santa Fe (led by Thomas Catron the leader of the Santa Fe Ring in the Billy the Kid story!). So Garrett is on the Republican's side but is still a Democrat and sympathetic to their basic politics. Then, when the handwriting is on the wall and it is obvious New Mexico will become a state, both Fall and Lee change parties and become Republicans! And Thomas Catron who was the rival lawyer in the Fountain case against Fall, becomes Albert's protector and gets him appointed to Taft's administration where he gets swept up in the Teapot Dome Scandal and becomes famous as "The fall guy." Crazy, crazy, crazy.

   Still, the moral is: Lee and Fall landed on their feet and the Fountains landed in shallow graves.

   Meanwhile, went home for lunch yesterday and whipped out a couple sketches of the 66 Kid:

 
Daily Whipout, "The 66 Kid Drives Through Sin City"

   Ha. Yes, I was inspired by a new movie still from the second "Sin City" starring Josh Brolin. Dig the dramatic lighting on the face and wanted to capture that for myself.

"Life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act."
—Truman Capote

Pat Garrett Pit Stop: The End of The Line

November 25, 2013
  Got a grandkid named Weston coming in at 5:30. Got to get going. Water heater went out over the weekend. Plumber came today and I had to meet him at the house during my lunch hour. He had a fit trying to fix it. We have really grime bad build up in the water, cost $498, but spent the time doing a little painting for the Assassination of Pat Garrett cover story we're doing. As I mentioned last week, I went out to the Garrett murder site in September of 1991 and took a bunch of photos of the approach and the spot. Did this panorama from the photos:

Daily Whipout, "Garrett Argues With Wayne Brazel Just Before The Pit Stop"

   Organ, New Mexico is in that pass in the background and we are looking up a broad arroyo where the road used to go. The highway today runs up the ridge on the far side of the gully. The old road is overgrown and hard to see, but I cleared it out to what it probably looked like in 1908.

   Met with Hans Olson last Friday after work, over at Janey's, to pitch him on doing some original music for The 66 Kid. He gifted me his latest CD, "Dust to Dust" and I dig the music and the cover photo os an old bar on Route 66 (I believe it's in New Mexico). Did a sketch of it:



"Put it before them briefly so they will read it, clearly so they will appreciate it, picturesquely so they will remember it and, above all, accurately so they will be guided by its light."
—Joseph Pulitzer

Creating Counties to Throw Off The Law

November 23, 2013
  Still working out the crazy-amazing plot twists in the Fountain Murders. I have long heard that after Pat Garrett was elected sheriff of Dona Ana County, Albert Fall created Otero County to take the jurisdiction of the murder case away from Garrett. As I wrote this down I actually had to stop and think: Really? Could Fall be THAT powerful? So I posed the question to Corey Recko, author of the new book on the Fountain case, "Murder On The White Sands" and here is his reply:

"Otero County was formed (from parts of Lincoln, Socorro, and Dona Ana) to facilitate the construction of a new railroad through the area; the logic being that business would run more smoothly in a smaller county.  Many credit Albert Fall with coming up with the idea for a new county—and he certainly lobbied for it.  While the given reasoning for the county does make sense (and it's not the only time it happened in NM as the century came to a close), it does seem like a convenient coincidence for Fall that the proposed Otero County, just barely, included the murder scene.  I won't quite go as far as accusing Fall for coming up with the idea simply to take jurisdiction away from Garrett without more evidence; but looking at the timing and the way the county was drawn up, it does make one wonder."

—Corey Recko

   Meanwhile, Gus Walker is hard at work on a map of the Garrett murder site. Fred Nolan emailed me this morning after seeing my take on the death whiz, saying, "Liked 'your innate' version of PFG's demise, but haven't you made the scenery a tad too handsome?  I remember when we all went there with Bob Barron all those years ago, my first thought was 'What a Godawful place to die' and then thought, Is there such a thing as a good one?"

—Fre Nolan

   Fred is referring to the field trip we took at the Billy the Kid Symposium that was held in Ruidoso in September of 1991. On Saturday some of us took the bus to Las Cruces (others went to Fort Sumner) and then we hopped in SUVs that took us out to the remote site where Garrett was murdered. Fred is right: my whip out is a bit gussied up. While we were there, I scrambled up a utility line road to do some sketching of the approach Garrett and crew took coming from Organ and Fred took this photo of me.



Photo by Fred Nolan of BBB sketching at the Pat Garrett murder site. Hard to believe that was 22 years ago and I'm finally going to get to use those sketches in the next issue.

"Everything comes to the man who is patient."
—Old Vaquero Saying

BBB & BB Sittin' In A Tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G

November 22, 2013
   Woke up to rain this morning. This is the view of Ratcliff Ridge at about 8:30:

 
Tattered Clouds Over Ratcliff Ridge


   Working on Sixty Six Sick Chicks. Here's one that got away:



BBB and BB Sittin' In A Tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G

   Her initials are BB and she was a dream date, for sure. Too bad she danced with the 66 Kid and I never saw her again.

"Every great mistake has a halfway moment, a split second when it can be recalled and perhaps remedied."
—Pearl Buck

Last Whiz & Zip It

November 21, 2013
   Went home for lunch and whipped out a painting to illustrate Pat Garrett's last second on earth.

 
Daily Whipout, "Last Whiz"

   I know. I know. I told myself, "Do NOT illustrate it from the front, but, well, I just couldn't stop myself. Another title for this could be "Even The Horse Knows."

   What does he know? He knows that Pat is about to be offed. Notice how he's turning to almost say, "Zip it Dude, and RUN!" All of this relates to Leon Metz's hilarious line:

"It's the only time in the history of the West someone was shot while urinating that the shooter claimed self-defense."
—Leon Metz



"

Zero Gallons Zero Sale

November 21, 2013
   When I was down at the White Stallion Guest Ranch last weekend I stumbled across this old gas pump. Many farms and ranches installed pumps to gas up their tractors and vehicles. But I was struck by this old puppy, which is very similar to the ones my dad had in his Phillips 66 on Hilltop in 1966:

 
Zero Gallons Zero Sale

   I have a hunch this will make it into the book in the last chapter. Spent the morning sketching ideas, but when I distill down the essence of the story, I keep coming back to a Kid standing in the middle of the road.

 
Daily Whipout, "The 66 Kid"

   It only took my 66 years, but I have come to the conclusion that every problem I have had has contained a gift inside. Gee, I wonder what ol' Bach has to say about this?

"There is no such thing as a problem without a gift for you in its hands. You seek problems because you need their gifts."
—Richard Bach

Z History That Doesn't Produce Zs

November 20, 2013
  Yesterday, Ken and I went over to Z's Asian Fusion for a working lunch. The owner, Zilio, waited on us and went into the kitchen herself to whip up some tasty Asian trout and noodles. Dang it was good!

 
Zilio, of Z's Asian Fusion, serving us lunch

   Working on one of the most bizarre murder cases in the history of the West. No, actually, make that the world! When A.J. Fountain and his eight-year-old son were murdered on the road to Las Cruces in 1896 it didn't take long to find out who did it: the tracks led right to Oliver Lee's front door. And it didn't take long to figure out who his accomplices were: Bill McNew and Jim Gililland. Here's basically what happened next:

The Bizarre Twists & Turns of A Case Going Nowhere
   Stymied by the fact that the very authorities who were supposed to be looking for the killers of the Fountains, were one in the same (in addition to being U.S. Deputy Marshals, all three suspects, Lee, McNew and Gililland are deputy marshals for Dona Ana County where the killings took place), the frustrated Governor of New Mexico, William Thornton hires an outside lawman, none other than Pat Garrett, who is now living in Ulvalde, Texas. In addition, Thornton also hired the Pinkerton Detective Agency to launch their own investigation.

  Garrett is hired at $150 a month, plus a promise of $8,000 if the murderers are arrested and convicted. At the end of February, three weeks after the murder, Garrett is in the saddle but he and his men turn up nothing.

   Incredibly, Garrett sees both Lee and Albert Fall on the streets of Las Cruces and El Paso and on the urging of the Pinkerton agent, Fraser, Pat arranges a meeting at Fall's office in Las Cruces. Fall talks freely and readily castigates Fountain's character and repeats a scandalous rumor that Fountain had been caught in a "compromising position" with his daughter and that's why he skipped the country (Fall's house organ, the Independent Democrat pushes this theory in their pages to explain Fountain's disappearance).

  As if things could not get more strange, the Pinkertons are called off the case, and one of Garrett's lawmen partners, Charles Perry, leaves town with more than $7,000 in Chaves County tax funds and flees to South Africa. Soldiering on, Garrett has to run for the office of sheriff in Dona Ana County, and he wins. But then, he is powerless until the grand jury will return indictments in the case. Before that happens, Garrett is in Tularosa and drops into Tobe Tipton's saloon where he encounters Oliver Lee, Albert Fall and George Curry, plus another local. Garrett sits down opposite Lee and they proceeded to play poker for three days and nights. After this incredible marathon game, Garrett confronts Lee and asks him if he will surrender if he is indicted. Lee responds, "Pat, you'll have no trouble serving a warrant on me. I have no reason or desire to resist the law." (Lee and Gililland later kill one of Garrett's deputies attempting to do just that)

  The grand jury returns zero indictments for the killing of the Fountains! Garrett then has to petition a judge for bench warrants to go after the killers. By the time Garrett can do anything it is July of 1898, two years after the killings and no one has even been arrested.

   Believe it or not, it gets worse. If I saw this crazy, byzantine, ridiculousness in a movie, I wouldn't believe it.

"The problem with the world is that the intelligent people are full of doubts, while the stupid ones are full of confidence."
—Charles Bukowski

New Mexico Is A Karma Killer

November 19, 2013
   Working on a couple projects: The Assassination of Pat Garrett layout. Article by Mark Boardman. A very strong cover story. Cover is giving us fits. Dan The Man has done about six versions, so far, and we keep nitpicking them to death. Told Dan to stand down today (it's his birthday by the way) until we can all get on the same page with it. Working on some sketches and cover concepts today. I'm also doing the Fountain murder for Classic Gunfights as a companion piece to the Garrett murder. Corey Recko, who researched and wrote this year's "Murder On The White Sands: The Disappearance of Albert and Henry Fountain" is wonderful to work with and the book is fantastic. Just realized both Fountain and Garrett were riding in buggies on the same damn road when they were shot and killed. But the most disturbing aspect of both cases is that the killers got away scott free. If you believe in karma, both these stories will make you weep.

   It was a total treat last weekend to be at the White Stallion Guest Ranch outside Tucson, WITHOUT my laptop. I left it on purpose because I felt like I needed a break, plus I wanted to work on The 66 Kid project without interference. Sat on the patio of our casita. This was my view across the way:



   Noodled another take on The Night Man, playing with midnight light, etc.

 
Daily Whipout, "The Night Man Sketches, No. 4"

   Of course, as soon as I started noodling the shapes a movie scene took shape and I quickly jotted it down above the sketch. I need to give myself these enforced sabbaticals from blogging, email and Facebook. I love it, but it sure is a time suck.

   Meanwhile, got this sketch going this morning:

Daily Whipout, "The 66 Kid Sketches No. 106"

   My good friend Russ Shaw, Jr. talked me into joining Rhapsody, a music sharing app that allows me to download all the music I want for $10 a month. I'm currently on a free-30-day-trial period and over the last two days I have downloaded a dozen versions of Bobby Troup's "Route 66," by a variety of artists. I have long been partial to the Rolling Stone's version, even though Mick Jagger refers to Kingman as "Bixlow." And the Asleep at The Wheel version has a rambling, smoothness that totally gets me, but I have to say, I really dig the Cheetah Girl's version which is a bit of an Electronic Dance Music ass kicker.

"That's the history of New Mexico: kill somebody or steal something and you can sure get a good office."
—J.A. Woodward

My Kingman Cowgirl Cousins

November 18, 2013
  Last weekend, my Kingman cowgirl cousin, Brenda Stockbridge, came down with her daughter Sharon for the Big Heap Show in Cave Creek. Here they are in their booth on Saturday:

 
Elzada (from Bosnia), Sharon Hamilton and Brenda Hamilton Stockbridge at The Big Heap in Cave Crrek. . .

   On Saturday afternoon, Kathy and I motored down to the White Stallion Guest Ranch near Marana, Arizona for a little R&R and a speech. Great place:

 
White Stallion Guest Racnh Casitas

   Great food, great setting and great rooms:

 
Great babe in bed in the room. . .

 
Great reading in the room. Yes, that's the December issue of True West underneath. . .

 
Great hiking trails. Went for a hike towards Panther Peak. . .

 
And gave a good Western talk to these fine people. Not the biggest crowd I've ever spoken to, but it was one of the most enjoyable groups I've ever had the pleasure of speaking to about the Wild West.

"The problem with being punctual is that nobody's there to appreciate it."
—Franklin P. Jones

Cars My Father Loved

November 15, 2013
   Looks like we have a green light to do our second video documentary. Earlier this week Ken and I talked at length with our partners about the concept and shot list and what I took away from the meeting is, "It's the cars, stupid." They have a show that pulls a solid two-share and it's all cars all the time.

   With that in mind I motored out to Westworld after lunch today (with Wonderful Russ at Pita Jungle) and took in the polo field at the Good Guys Car Show, which was wall to wall rods, customs and assorted refurbished classics:

 
Wall to Wall Rods

Cars My Dad Loved
   For several years in the mid-fifties my father bought a new Ford every year. Here is the progression:



   A sweet '55 Ford that reminds me of my dad. As does this tasty '56 which I distinctly remember seeing on the showroom floor at Gabby Ford in Swea City, Iowa:


   And, of course, by 1957 we were in Kingman and my dad bought a '57 Ford Fairlane from Roy Dunton:


   Although my dad customized his '57 with a Continental kit on the back. That sucker was longer than a Hopi Snake Dance.

   The placed was slammed with people and it's only Friday. There must have been thousands of cars of all makes and models, including a row of these crazy, low riders:

 
How Low Can You Go?

   The paper this morning mentioned that the old guys (my age!) are dying out and these shows need to reach out to a younger audience, but this is your typical Woodstock encampment:


   Don't you know they all need hip boots because of the BS factor.

   Also, how do you get old gear heads to gather around your booth? Run videos of car wrecks, of course!

 

"That's nuthin'—one time I was in my old man's Olds and I flipped it comin' off Grapevine Road, you know where the culvert used to be."
—Actual snippet of conversation overheard

House Guests & Fish

November 14, 2013
   We have house guests coming in about an hour. Sometimes we get a guest who really appreciates my wife's liberal views:



"Sure, I'd love to hear what your views on abortion are."
—Some guy from Balitmore

The Night Man No. III

November 13, 2013
   Got up this morning and took another stab at The Night Man, opening up the desolation a bit:

 
Daily Whipout, "The Night Man No. 3"

   Got a new floor in my office, plus a new desk. Here is the desk being loaded in:

 
New BBB Desk Be In

   And here I am with a very clean desk.

 
New Desk—New Lease On Life

   Oh, and you'll never see it this clean again.

"The worst truth to be confronted with is always the one that you already know."
—Justin Taylor

Desk Be Gone

November 12, 2013
   Sitting in an empty office. First time since the year 2000, when we moved into the current digs of the True West World Headquarters. Two guys pulled up in a truck that said Rubbish Be Gone. The next thing I know they are manhandling my old desk:

 
Desk Be Gone, number one

 
Desk be Gone, number 2

   Which left me working off of a  couple of leftover chairs:

 
Desk Be Gone, number 3

"I'm the king of hearing a scream in the distance and deciding it's probably nothing."
—@juliussharpe

Daily Whipouts Gone Amuck

November 11, 2013
   A very successful weekend working on artwork. Did meet Ed Reilly and Deb Gesner at the True West World Headquarters on Saturday morning to go over our next sculpture. Hint: it's going to be of this guy:

 
Daily Whipout, "Billy's Backyard Ballet"

   Still noodling storm clouds over the Mother Road and did this little lightning strike panorama:

 
Daily Whipout, "Highway Storm Panorama"

   Here's another lightning strike study (note face in clouds):

 
Daily Whipout, "Lightning Strike Face Time"

   And here's a mysterious rider:

 
Daily Whipout, "Entering The Valley of The Shadow of Death"

   This morning I whipped this out before going into work:

 
Daily Whipout, "Lone Vaquero"

And then went home for lunch today and whipped this out:

 
Daily Whipout, "Mysterious Dave"

"I don’t paint ambitiously. It’s all catch and release, just tiny fish that aren’t really worth the trouble to clean and cook."
—Bill Watterson

The Night Man Admires His Ride

November 10, 2013
  I've been thinking about the guys in the service station business who worked the night shift. Some of them had cherry rides which they polished and pampered during slow times.


Daily Whipout, "The Night Man Admires His Ride."

"Sometimes we knew more about our cars than we knew about girls."
—Kevin Hogge

The Night Man

November 8, 2013

   Got up this morning and whipped out a couple studies, including these two (on one board):



Daily Whipout, "Van Gogh Bronco"



   This is part of my new effort to ruin five boards a day. I have piles and piles of patina boards where I have experimented with different washes and they stack up and I don't know quite what to do with them. I finally decided I would make a stack of patina washes that were weak or problematic and I would go out of my way to do something bold, because it's already a dog. This is a typical board:





   Interesting, but what the hell do I do with it?

   Dan Harshberger and I are hard at work on The 66 Kid project. Here's an aspect of 66 culture we want to capture. If you were ever a night man, we want your experiences.

The Night Man
   After Memorial Day many service stations along Route 66 would stay open 24-hours. Summer vacation students or seasonal "Nightmen" would be hired to work the overnight shift. They were usually loners and laconic types. Allen Bell's favorite night man was a guy named Scotty. The 66 Kid never knew his last name. Scotty was meticulous, friendly, but rather shy. He lived alone in an apartment and walked to work at the gas station.

   Out on the road, the traffic was lighter than in the daytime and many cross country travelers preferred driving at night when it was cooler, especially across the desert. Business was light but steady until the wee hours, when a good night shift man would use the down time to clean the restrooms and the driveway. One temporary night man, Dan The Man Harshberger, describes how he filled the time:

 
Daily Whipout, "The Night Man"

   "It was busy until around ten and then my good friend—Box-Lip Darrel—would stop by and we'd raid the pop machine since I had the keys, and drink a couple of orange sodas. And I'd pump a couple of free gallons of gas in his '50 Shoebox Ford. We gave a discount to local people, I'm guessing 10 cents per gallon. We had to write down the discount on a piece of paper kept by the cash register. So I'd make up some discounts equal to how much gas I put into Darrel's car, so it all came out even. About 11:30 every nite I had to wash down the drives by the pumps. I would squirt some high-octane onto the concrete and using a push broom scrub the drives. It worked great and cleaned all the oil leaks off. Then I'd mix in some Tide and water to modify the gas, then hose everything into the gutter on the highway. The only thing that scared the shit out of me, was when someone would pull onto the drive when it was full of raw gas and they'd get out of their car smoking a cig. Lucky for me and them the gas never caught fire."

   "I remember one nite, I was ready to close up, probably about 11:45, and car pulled in with his windshield an inch thick with smashed grasshoppers. He didn't want gas, just his windshield cleaned. I started scrubbing it and by the time I was done I had about 10 more cars lined up with windshields covered in grasshoppers, I ran over to turn off the lights to show we were closed, but I was there till 12:30 scrubbing windshields. And nobody bought any gas—they said the price was too high, they went on down the highway, as if they would find gas in Kingman any cheaper. Ha!"
__________
One of my favorite moments in "American Graffiti" is when the hotrodder, John Mills, pulls in a gas station before the big race and while he's talking to the mechanic a couple kids are throwing rocks and "playing grab ass," as my dad used to put it. Just a classic moment of getting it right with gas station behavior.

"What do'ya got in this gas—GOLD?!"
—Every customer we ever waited on in Kingman

Frank Frazetta Original: Embarrassment of Riches

November 7, 2013
   It's crazy, but sometimes I forget that I have treasures I don't even remember having. Recently I ordered a book, "Frank Frazetta Art and Rememberances" by Frank Frazetta, Jr.

   The book is lush with great images, but I was a little disappointed in the narrative because Frank, Jr. glosses over some of the family feud that erupted after Frank, Sr's death (I remember reading about one of his sons driving a bulldozer or a back hoe into the museum to retrieve paintings he thought should have been his). None of that is in the book, which I can understand, but I would like to read the true story at some point.

   Anyway, the book is lavishly done with rare photos of the family and Frank, who, as a young man, looked like a cross between Clint Eastwood and James Dean. And, who can deny Frank painted some impressive images, like this gem which ended up on a Molly Hatchet album cover (the third to feature a Frazetta):


   Great horse with excellent steam snorting to boot. And who could forget Frazetta's women?


 
Frank Frazetta, Vamperella

   In the mid-1950s Frank ghosted the comic strip Li'l Abner, doing the heavy lifting for Al Capp (and enhancing the enhancements of every woman in the strip).

   As I admired the many images in the book, I found myself contemplating what I wouldn't give to have a Frank Frazetta original! Well, I was cleaning in the garage last weekend and came across this:



   Yes, it's an original panel from Li'L Abner drawn and signed by the Master himself. I believe this was gifted to me by fellow cartoonist Robert Steinhilber. How sweet is that?

"Thass a mighty flimsy dress t'go rasslin' grizzly b'ars in, Joan L Sullivan."
—Your Typical Dogpatch Idjut in Li'l Abner

Go West Young Buster

November 7, 2013
   Just got this from my cousin Tap Lou Weir. It's from the Mohave Miner in Kingman:

May 22, 1925
   Buster Keaton, the noted film comedian will make a six-reel picture in Mohave county starting in a week or so. Mr. Keaton and three of his men were in here this week looking up a location and picked Tap Duncan's ranch.

October, 1933
   Mr. and Mrs. Buster Keaton of movie fame stopped last Wednesday night in Kingman at the Beale Hotel. They are on their way home after spending some time in the east.

   Since it's known Tap Duncan had a standing room at the Beale Hotel it's very possible Keaton stayed there on the scouting trip and ran into Duncan in the lobby, or the cafe, or the bar and they struck a deal to film "Go West" on Tap's Diamond Bar Ranch. Wish we had the details. Here's a classic shot on location for the film, which appears to be near Red Lake, a huge dry lake northeast of Kingman:



Buster Keaton in "Go West" (1925), filmed on the Diamond Bar Ranch in Mohave County

"I have decided that the trouble with print is it never changes its mind."
—Ursula K. LeGuin

Emmy Buds & Bio Duds

November 6, 2013
     Big night at the Phoenix Art Museum last night. Jana Bommersbach, Marshall Trimble and I revisited our Emmy award winning performances in the PBS documentary "Outrageous Arizona" for a packed house in Whiteman Hall.



   I did discover a hidden gem in the Green Room, the little ante-room off the main stage where we waited to be introduced. On a blank cement wall hung this tall beauty:

  
   Jim Ballanger told me it's the only wall in the museum big enough to hang it. I believe Jim said Maynard did for a department store in LA in the 20s.

   After our talk we sold dozens of DVDs of the show and 28 back issues of our Arizona Centennial Celebration Issue. Lots of love all around, except for one person—a woman named Stephanie who came up to me at the signing table with a complaint. She was visibly upset and I'm still not sure what set her off, but she did say it was "unacceptable to bring politics into this setting." And I assume it was perhaps our OK Corral comments where Jana said "all politics in Arizona stem from the OK Corral." Then I made a quip about "Jan Brewer wagging her finger at Obama" and how that stems from the OK Corral. Anyway, she was inconsolable and it was one of those cases where nothing I could say would calm her down.

   I had Theresa down at Tri Star Boze run the numbers on my books yesterday and this is her report:

Billy the Kid (1992) 15,735 books sold

Wyatt Earp (1993) 25,018 books sold

Doc Holliday (1994) 19,994 books sold

Bad Men (1999) 10,487 books sold

Classic Gunfights, Vol. I, II, III (2002-2006) 11,754 books sold

Total books sold: 82,988

  Not too shabby for straight-up timeline bios. Gee I wonder what an east coast graphic novel writer thinks about this achievement?

"There would be nothing more boring than a graphic novel that was a straight timeline biography."
—Jim McCarthy, author of "Gabba Gabba Hey!" a graphic novel biography of the Ramones