Marshall Is Coming Out of Retirement, Cousins Galore and A Recipe for Disaster

 March 24, 2025

     As you may know, Marshall Trimble has retired, but I talked him into coming out of the lap of luxury for one more trip down memory lane, this Saturday at the Superstition Mountain Lost Dutchman Museum from 10 to 3 on Saturday. See you there, but be sure to wear hipboots. It's going to get deep, real fast.

Small Town BSers Unite for One More Run

https://superstitionmountainlostdutchmanmuseum.org/

Cousins Galore

   When we were at Old Tucson for the Jay Dusard True Westerner Award presentation, my Kingman cousin, Robert Jerl Stockbridge showed up. Haven't seen him in some time and, just for the record he looks just like his old man.

Robert Allen and Robert Jerl

(yes, we are both named for our grandfather, Robert Guess)

   Meanwhile, today my cousin from my dad's side of the family came out to Cave Creek so we could catch up on the Bell side of the family.

Cousin Mike Richards of Des Moines, Iowa

A Recipe for Disaster

   On January 1, 1856 Brigham Young appointed John D. Lee “Farmer to the Indians”. In this capacity Lee was a federal government agent and it was his job to protect the Southern Paiutes and emigrants from each other and to teach them to farm. Lee was paid a $600 annual salary, paid in gold, which was a fortune in that time and place. There were also rumors that the Mormons were arming their Paiute allies. Lt. Sylvester Mowry of the U.S. Army claimed they were “all armed with good rifles. Two years ago they were armed with nothing but bows and arrows of the poorest description.”

   Author Will Bagley makes the claim “The Mormons came to regard the Indians as a weapon God had placed in their hands.” And that the Indians would help to fulfill Joseph Smith’s Laminate prophesies, and “avenge the blood of the prophets.” Patriarch Elisha H. Groves prophesied as he blessed Col. William Dame in 1854, “The angel of vengeance shall be with thee.” Many of the Southern Utah Saints believed the war at the end of time had already begun and the Saints believed the Indians were a weapon God had placed in their hands.

   As the conflict between the U.S. government and Mormons increased, so did harassment of travelers. Into this cauldron of resentment the Fancher wagon train proceeded tragically. Add to that, the belief in blood atonement and you have a recipe for the slaughter that followed.

   The Southern Utah Saints saw themselves as Old Testament people As one of them, Jedediah Grant, put it, “We would not kill a man, of course, unless we killed him to save him.”

   Add to all of this, the Mormon apostle Parley Platt’s brutal assassination in Arkansas at the hands of a vengeful husband which did nothing to endear the Saints towards wagon trains from Arkansas traveling through their region.

"The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which to burn."

—Bertrand Russell

One Little Kiss And Felina Is Gone

 March 23, 2025

  So, I am reading "The Mexican Corrido: A Feminist Analysis," and the writer, Maria Herrera-Sobek does a whole chapter on The Traitor Eve, and how, as in the Garden of Eden where Eve betrays Adam with a poisoned apple, in the Mexican Corridos, La Traidora (The Female Traitor!), harkens back to Dona Marina, La Malinche, or La Lengua (The Tongue!), who acted as an interpreter for Cortez and sold out her Aztec countrymen by advising Cortez on how to get to their weak spots. The author Maria points out, via a popular corrido from the 1920s there are four steps in "the path of the circle" and that is Death-Adventure-Betrayal-Death. and I thought that was kind of confusing, but familiar, and then I remembered a song by Marty Robbins, that hits this cycle perfectly and was a huge hit when I was a kid:

Marty Robbins meets Felina. Yeah, right.

Out in the West Texas town of El Paso
I fell in love with a Mexican girl
Nighttime would find me in Rosa's cantina
Music would play and Felina would whirl

Blacker than night were the eyes of Felina
Wicked and evil while casting a spell
My love was deep for this Mexican maiden
I was in love but in vain, I could tell

One night a wild young cowboy came in
Wild as the West Texas wind
Dashing and daring, a drink he was sharing
With wicked Felina, the girl that I loved

So in anger I challenged his right for the love of this maiden
Down went his hand for the gun that he wore
My challenge was answered in less than a heartbeat
The handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor

Out through the back door of Rosa's I ran
Out where the horses were tied
I caught a good one, it looked like it could run
Up on its back and away I did ride

Just as fast as I could
From the West Texas town of El Paso
Out to the badlands of New Mexico

Back in El Paso my life would be worthless
Everything's gone in life, nothing is left
It's been so long since I've seen the young maiden
My love is stronger than my fear of death

I saddled up and away I did go
Riding alone in the dark
Maybe tomorrow a bullet may find me
Tonight nothing's worse than this pain in my heart

And at last, here I am on the hill, overlooking El Paso
I can see Rosa's cantina below
My love is strong and it pushes me onward
Down off the hill to Felina I go

Off to my right I see five mounted cowboys
Off to my left ride a dozen or more
Shouting and shooting, I can't let them catch me
I have to make it to Rosa's back door

Something is dreadfully wrong, for I feel
A deep burning pain in my side
Though I am trying to stay in the saddle
I'm getting weary, unable to ride

But my love for Felina is strong and I rise where I've fallen
Though I am weary, I can't stop to rest
I see the white puff of smoke from the rifle
I feel the bullet go deep in my chest

From out of nowhere Felina has found me
Kissing my cheek as she kneels by my side
Cradled by two loving arms that I'll die for

One little kiss and Felina, goodbye. . . 

—Marty Robbins, El Paso

Daily Whip Out: "La Lengua!"

Ozona Cowboys From Dust to Dust

 March 22, 2024

   The less you see the more you understand. This is just one of the insights I have gleaned from an extra 17 years on the planet. Yes, it was on this date, March 22nd, that I had my own personal "Wipeout" at a band reunion in Kingman. And, every extra year I get, I stop to give thanks for the overtime. And, also to take stock of what I might have learned.

Daily Whip Out:

"Ozona Cowboy 4:44"

   For everything I gained, I lost something. And, for everything I lost, I gained something. And, yes, I am stuck with you here in this dopamine desert.

Daily Whip Out:

"Ozona Cowboy 5:55"

Daily Whip Out:

"Ahead of The Dust Storm Barely"

   Too maudlin? Sorry, can't help you there. I measure my remaining time by the moments.

"It's getting dark, too dark to see. . ."

—Bob Dylan, "Knockin' On Heaven's Door"

John D. Lee Hurled Into Eternity While Sitting On His Coffin

 March 21, 2025

   Interesting that the capital punishment industry is considering a return to the bullet in the heart method as a "more humane" alternative to lethal injection and hanging. The more things change. . . 

   And speaking of firing squads, it's hard to top the absurd reality of John D. Lee's sendoff at the scene of his crime.

Daily Whip Out:

"John D. Lee Falls Into Eternal Rest"

(from an engraving published at the time)

   U.S. Army sharpshooters stood in the enclosure of three wagons parked in a U-shaped semi-circle. Tarps were wrapped around the wagons and the exposed corners to help conceal the shooter's identities. Sitting on his coffin, Lee had a hood placed over his head and he raised his arms high and said, "Center my heart, boys." After the command of "Ready. Aim. Fire!" the shooters did just that and Lee fell backwards into his coffin.

Back to Mountain Meadows

   After the second trial and several appeals on behalf of Mr. Lee, the U.S. government finally got a guilty verdict and it was decreed that the alleged ringleader of the Mountain Meadows disaster should be driven to that exact meadow and shot to death by a firing squad. It was supposed to be a secret, but one of the attorneys alerted the press and you know how that goes: everyone has one person they can trust, so the next day as the U.S. troops and their prisoner arrived at the execution site, so did 75, or so, gawkers.

The Gawkers

   Note the wagon tongue at right which is part of one of the wagons used to conceal the shooters.

One Final Irony

   It's the old gypsy curse: may you be found among lawyers!

John D. Lee, seated at right, with his legal team, including Wells Spicer over Lee's left shoulder. Spicer of course would find himself at another legal circus, I mean hearing, in Tombstone, A.T. in November of 1881 presiding over the Fremont Street Fight, later to be made famous as the Gunfight at The O.K. Corral.

Coffin Lounger

   A photograph of John D. Lee moments before his execution looking at the camera. After the exposure was taken Lee reportedly called the photographer over and asked him to be sure and send a couple prints to his "two favorite wives." Of all his many wives, only Caroline, Emma and Rachel stayed with him to the end, so it's interesting that out of the trio, he still had two favorites.

John D. Lee's final repose

   Bitter to the end

"I was guided in all that I did which is called criminal, by the orders of the leaders in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints."

—John D. Lee

Just Desserts And Scapegoat Shenanigans

 March 20, 2025

   We're wrapping up the tangled web of historic intrigue that still surrounds and haunts the Mountain Meadows affair. Even with the massive amounts of recent scholarship, it's still very difficult to close the circle, or to put it another way, to get closure on the circle. It's like all our efforts to capture and tame the truth are stored in a broken jar.

Daily Whip Out: "The Scapegoat"

A Timeline of The John D. Lee Saga

• The tragic culmination of threats and religious hatred combined with a crazy plan, doomed an entire wagon train at Mountain Meadows, September 11, 1857

• Col. James Carleton's savage report unveils the true perpetrators at Mountain Meadows but war clouds delay any move towards justice.

• The Civil War intervenes 1861-1864

• New government efforts by the Justice Department reopen the case. In 1874 indictments are issued against eight alleged Mountain Meadows participants with a $500 reward on each. They include, John D. Lee, Issac Haight, William Dame, John Higbee, among others.  

• John D. Lee is arrested in Panguitch, Utah, November 4, 1876

• John D. Lee's first trial

• John D. Lee's second trial

• John D. Lee is executed at Mountain Meadows

• Some of the remaining co-conspirators scatter to the wind while one came out of the troubles somewhat unscathed.

Dueling Confessions

   One of the problems with understanding exactly what happened at Mountain Meadows is all the conflicting confessions. Klingonsmith gave a confession—and John D. Lee gave several at different times. In addition to those, one of Lee's wives, Emma Lee, claimed that three men came to Lonely Dell (Lee's Ferry) looking for Lee's 1857 diary. According to Emma the diary contained "the three orders from Dame and Haight to go and take part in the massacre." Emma also claimed the men destroyed the diary. Damning testimony against Dame and Haight, if it's true. Unfortunately, as Will Bagley put it, "All of Lee's confessions were a tangled mix of truth and fiction."

Daily Whip Out: "John D. Lee In Red"

Guilty As Sin

   A short list of what happened to the remaining Mountain Meadows co-conspirators who were known derisively as "The Mountain Meadows Dogs." This notorious pack included Lee, Haight, Higbee and Stewart, among others.

Daily Whip Out: "Issac Haight"

    Issac Haight, fled Utah under the alias of "Horton" and wandered between the LDS settlements in Arizona, Colorado and Mexico and died as a member in good standing in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in Thatcher, Arizona in 1904.

Daily Whip Out: "Philip Klingonsmith"

  Philip Klingonsmith was kicked in the head by a horse and soon after lost his position as leader of the LDS church in Cedar City. After fleeing to Nevada he confessed his involvement at Mountain Meadows and named names. Afterwards he was forever fearful of being assassinated. Rumor says he died in either Nevada or Mexico.

Daily Whip Out:

"Colonel William H. Dame"

The One Dude Who Basically Skated

Col. William H. Dame was the mayor of Parowan, Utah and he controlled the military in Iron County. He was also a stake president of the LDS church in Parowan. Although he was arrested and spent time in jail for his role, Dame was subsequently acquitted of his charges—the prosecutor dropped charges against Dame as part of a deal to convict Lee—and Dame went on to hold other offices. At the end of his life Dame refused to clear Brigham Young and died of paralysis, actually a second stroke, in 1884. He was 64.

Daily Whip Out: "Jacob Hamblin"

   Jacob Hamblin was in Salt Lake City meeting with Brigham Young at the time of the massacre, and Young allegedly instructed Hamblin about the Paiutes, that they "must learn to help us, or the United States will kill us both." Hamblin was away when the massacred happened but he met John D. Lee on the trail and Lee admitted his roles in the killings. After the massacre, the surviving children were initially taken to Hambin's ranch, and three of them resided there for the next two years. A year after the massacre Hamblin went on a mission to the Hopi in Arizona where he took a Hopi wife (he eventually had four wives and would father 24 children). Hamblin also advised John Wesley Powell's second expedition into the Grand Canyon. Following the Edmunds Act of 1882, an arrest warrant was issued for Hamblin for practicing polygamy. From then on he continually moved to avoid arrest, moving from Arizona to New Mexico and then Chihuahua, Mexico where he died on August 31, 1886.

Daily Whip Out: "John B. Higbee"

   The field commander at Mountain Meadows John Higbee saw his career blossom after the massacre and he was elected mayor of Cedar City from 1867 to 1871. Brigham Young appointed Higbee president of the town's United Order in 1874. After Lee's arrest in 1874, Higbee went into hiding. Using the alias "Bull Valley Snort," Higbee wrote a  document for his family, giving his version of the massacre in February 1894. At the end of his self-serving excuses—his basic claim is "the Indians made us do it."—Higbee said the massacre had left him "damned, his family scattered, some dead, others grown up and strangers to him." He died in Cedar City in December of 1904.

"It seems Somebody has contracted a Great debt."

—Bull Valley Snort

Amber And The Pursuit of Dust to Dust

 March 19, 2025

   As you may know I carry a sketchbook with me everywhere I go and often sketch random things I see, or build on ideas I would like to see.

Saint-Remy-de-Provence, France, 2015

   So, I had my sketchbook with me this past weekend at the Tucson Festival of Books. On Saturday afternoon a young girl came up to our booth, spied my sketchbook sitting on a chair behind me, and asked if she could look at it. I didn't think anything about it and handed it to her. Most people who look through my sketchbooks, do so with mild interest and promptly hand it back, but Amber looked at every page intensely, reading my notes, even turning back several pages to reread a section, apparently trying to catch a flow. I started to get slightly nervous about it because I often put raw notes in there. Stuff like, "I wish I could draw better!" and, "Well, there goes my career!" Anyway, after about ten minutes I said, just to be polite, "So, do you want to be an artist?" To which Amber smiled and said, "I already am."

Amber is an Artist

   I loved her immediately.

   Meanwhile, in my current sketchbook, the one Amber perused last Saturday, I am hell bent on discovering all the subtle shades of dust. Here is a sketch from this morning.

Daily Whip Out: "Visibility Almost Zero"

   In a typical Kingman dust storm—that I grew up in—you can't see anything, but at the moment it starts to pass, vague shapes come into view. That is the moment I am trying to capture.

Daily Whip Out: "Incoming Dusty Chaps"

Daily Whip Out: "From Dust to Dust"

   Come to think of it that would be a cool title for for an art show.

"Everything is dust in the wind. . ."

—Kansas

Losing Our Shirts And Grinning Like Jackasses

 March 18, 2025

   So the burning question is, how do we keep up with Steamy Lit, the little juggernaut book cooperative that grossed $92 million last year? Some of our guys were wondering just this in our booth last weekend at the Tucson Festival of Books and one of them asked aloud how we could ever compete with the Steamy crowd when it comes to our heroes, like Jesse, Billy and Wyatt. One female in our tent had a zinger answer:

"Take their shirts off!"

—Micki Fuhrman

   Hmmmm, so, what would that look like?

Wild Bill Steamy BozeCard

   Yes, I had Dan The Man afix Jack Reacher's body to Wild Bill's head. Ain't that a beastly match? And speaking of Beastly, what kind of articles would we need to run to appeal to the steamy crowd? Here's a couple starter ideas aping the covers I saw on the Steamy Lit website:

A Virgin for The Beastly Doc!

The Dark Surrender of Paulita Maxwell!

I groaned Jesse's Name As I Shattered!

Butch Went Off Inside Me Like A Gunshot!

I Was Taken By A Mountain Man!

(no, wait! That's a real title!)

"Is that a pistol in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

—Mae West

   Okay, what you got?

The Great Reset Is Upon Us!

 March 17, 2025

I enjoyed talking to this young man about history at the Tucson Festival of Books last weekend.

The Eagle Has Landed

He is an Eagle Scout and says he often seeks a "reset" by leaving his phone behind on long hikes in the wilderness. He told me he gravitates towards the mountain man era because he feels like that is when survival was the most raw and pure. Look out! These kids are going to make history new again by championing our past, just when we need it most.

All of this is so refreshing because we have had a generation—or two!—who have somewhat shunned or abandoned history as hokey or, worse, unnecessary.

"Take these broken wings and learn to fly. . ."

—Paul McCartney, Black Bird

My 15th Annual Tucson Festival of Books Recap

 March 17, 2025

   Got home last night from Tucson at ten, bone tired but happy. I think it's safe to say, I always hate going, but I always love having gone.

The Tucson Festival of Books

On the University of Arizona Campus

(that's me in our booth, upper left)

   That's a joke, but our booth was close to Old Main, at upper left, and across from the Student Union (the big, white monster, center, right).

   As I mentioned yesterday it was a breath of fresh air to run into so many youngsters who are interested in history. Check it out:

A Young Girl Who Loves History!

Our Youngest Reader Is In The House!

Mama Buys Mag for her Hija

Best Overheard Ironic Remark

"I got into journalism because I knew there would always be newspapers."

—Preston Lewis

Painful Learning Curve

    One of my biggest takeaways this last weekend is the realization that I know nothing about "what sells." Our neighbors, Steamy Lit, had rock concert lines all weekend with crowd control security to manage hungry, voracious rowdy female buyers and sales through the roof (one of the staffers told me it's a $92 million dollars a year enterprise).

   Our own Micki Fuhrman—caught between two tents—can't seem to decide which booth to visit. She also quipped, the no show group on the left (Christian Women Authors) should change their name to "Steamy Christian." Point taken, Micki!

   Meanwhile, as the lines snaked in front of our tent, blocking anyone from approaching us, I went out to ask what the hub-bub was about and one of the very intelligent women held up this book.

Deep End Mamas

   And, here is a synopsis of one of Ali's other books:

"Love, Theoretically," by Ali Hazelwood

   The many lives of theoretical physicist Elsie Hannaway have finally caught up with her. By day, she’s an adjunct professor, toiling away at grading labs and teaching thermodynamics in the hopes of landing tenure. By other day, Elsie makes up for her non-existent paycheck by offering her services as a fake girlfriend, tapping into her expertly honed people pleasing skills to embody whichever version of herself the client needs.

Here is the scene in our own tent

Hard Working Historians With One Hottie Historian

(l-r: Samuel K. Dolan. Janelle Molony who bills herself as the "Hottie Historian", BBB and Steve "Bunker" DeFrance.

"We're reclaiming history from the outskirts of oblivion."

—Old True West Saying

Kids Dig History And Jay Dusard Gets His Due

 March 16, 2025

   It was a total drag coming down here. From Phoenix, we fought multiple freeway stops, two accidents, one of them serious with an overturned truck and a shoe in the middle of the high speed lane. Rained all the way. Aggressive A-hole drivers going 95 and swerving in and out of lanes. A couple times, I swore to myself this would be my last trip down. When we got to the Best Western (such an ironic name!) the little family style restaurent attached to the motel is now a niteclub and the "free" breakfast is now dispensed in a water closet style room behind the lobby with the plastic spoons and the microwaved, plastic eggs The festival didn't issue parking passes to the vendors this year so Stuart, who drove us down, had to drop me off behind the student unioin with a dolly and ten cases of mags and books while he went searching for a parking space on the east end of campus

   And did I mention it was still sprinkling and overcast and chilly?

   Got to our booth and loaded all our back issues on the table and then, slowly, the magic starts to happen. 

   In the crush of humanity, most everyone ignores us and walks by on the way to somewhere else. But I would venture that out of every 500 who walk by, there is someone who spies us, then walks up smiling and at that moment I launch the big question:

   Do you like history?

The Kid Likes History!

   This is worth entire trip to see the look on that kid's face. And, he isn't alone. For the first time in memory we've had youngsters wanting to look at an actual magazine dedicated to history. This is a beautfiul thing.

This Mama Got One for Her Son!

Even the Young Women Are Into It!

Mama Got One for Hija

   Meanwhile, catching up with Friday night. We had our celebratory dinner to honor our 2025 True Westerner of The Year Award, and here is the video we played:

Jay Dusard Is A Proud Booger

   Oh, and all the music was written and recorded by Nils Lofgrin. Just the best.

"I'm just a little ol' booger."

—Jay Dusard

Kids Love True West at Tucson Book Festival

 March 15, 2025

   Had a great day at the Tucson Festival of The West today. I feel hopeful because more than one kid came up and told me they are interested in history. Look at this little guy.

Youngster Forces Entire Family

to Watch Him Choose A True West Magazine

   He wasn't alone. More pics later.

Oh, Say Can You See Me In Young Guns III?

 March 14, 2025

   A friend of mine, Paul Hoylen, from Deming, New Mexico just sent me this news item from Santa Fe.

Emilio Estevev to Direct Young Guns III

   Cool. So, I forwarded it on to the guy who created the franchise and asked if he was part of this new effort and he responded:

"Of course, Amigo. I own the rights. We want you to do a cameo."

—John Fusco

   Well, you know me, as soon as I read this the wheels started turning.

A Scene From Young Guns III I'd Like to See

Daily Whip Out: "Old Kid Crazy Coot"

(He's 78 and if you stand near him you will discover he knows everything there is to know  about Billy the Kid )

SCENE: Interior of The Billy the Kid Bar, 1951 

Old Kid Krazy Coot: "All these fancy historians don't know jack diddly about the real Billy the Kid like I do!"

Betty The Bartender: "We wasn't talking about Billy the Kid, you jackass. We're talking about atom bomb testing in Alamagordo!"

Old Kid Krazy Coot: "You know, Billy the Kid rode all through that country before it got all bomb rangy. I rode in there following the same path he took. Tracked the Kid clear through to Crow Flat. Nobody knows what I know!"

Grizzled Miner Sitting Next to the Old Kid Krazy Coot: "Sweet Mother of God, can't you talk about anything other than Billy the Kid?"

Daily Whip Out: "Grizzled Miner"

Old Kid Krazy Coot: "Of course I can! What do you think I am? Some one-note Jimmy Dolan? Ask me something. Anything!"

Grizzled Miner: "What do you think about abortion?"

Old Kid Krazy Coot: "Are you kiddin' me? Hey, speaking of the Kid, did you know Billy was tried for murder in this very room?"

MULTIPLE shots ring out and a limp body is dragged out the swinging doors onto the Mesilla Plaza for the buzzards to pick at.

"Cut! Scene! Print!"

—Emilio Estevev

My Life On The Turntable of Life

 March 13, 2025

   Rounding up all the last images we need for our Mountain Meadows coverage.

Mountain Man Jim Bridger

   Meanwhile, still noodling dust riders.

Daily Whip Out: "Amber Riders #86" 

   Oh, and regarding the hand written note at top: I have been age 33 and-one-third, and I have been 45 and now I am 78, so I feel like I have lived all the old turntable speeds.

"Unsafe at Any Speed."

—Ralph Nader referring to the Corvair