DREAMS FOR SALE--THE STORY OF THE 101 RANCH by CHERYL PIERSON

On a vast open plain a few miles south of Ponca City, Oklahoma, lies the burial ground of one of the greatest ranching empires of the West—the Miller brothers’ 101 Ranch.

Established in 1893 by Colonel George Washington Miller, a former Confederate soldier, and his wife Molly, the 101 became known as the “Largest Diversified Farm and Ranch in America.” It was nicknamed the “White House.”

Not only was the 101 one of the largest working ranches west of the Mississippi, it was even more famous for its Wild West shows. These displays of horsemanship, roping, and daring “rescues” transitioned from local shows to the national level in 1907 when the 101 Wild West Show performed at the Jamestown Exposition in Virginia. In 1908, the tour circuit began in earnest.

The Miller brothers, Joseph, George Jr., and Zack, had permitted some of their cowboys to perform at a local fair, and from this, their own Wild West show grew to become known worldwide.

It was essentially a Wild West show, complete with cattle, buffaloes, cowboys and Indians. It included an all-around crowd pleaser—the attack on the stagecoach. But it also contained elements of the circus with sideshows, and “freaks” such as the Bearded Lady. In the heyday of its popularity, the Millers’ 101 Wild West Show netted them over one million dollars per year!

The idea of formalizing the performing cowboys into a Wild West show came from the Millers’ longtime friend and neighbor, Major Gordon W. Lillie—also known as Pawnee Bill. Pawnee Bill eventually combined his own Wild West show with Buffalo Bill Cody’s. The 101 Wild West Show, however, remained solitary, boasting stars such as black bulldogger Bill Pickett, Bee Ho Gray, early movie star Tom Mix, Mexican Joe, and eventually, Buffalo Bill Cody as well.

The Miller brothers were latecomers to the Wild West show circuit, causing them to suffer financially with the advent of movies. Even so, their show became the largest in the nation by the 1920’s, requiring more than 100 train cars to travel from town to town.

By 1916, the two younger Miller brothers, George Jr. and Zack, gave up trying to work with their temperamental oldest brother, Joe. It was during this time period that Joe hired an aging Buffalo Bill Cody to star in a WWI recruitment show: The Pageant of Preparedness. Cody quit the show due to illness, and died within a year. Still, Joe tried to keep the show going, but was unsuccessful. He offered it for sale to the American Circus Corporation in 1927. They were uninterested, suffering from financial distress as well. On October 21, 1927, a neighbor found Joe Miller dead in the ranch garage of carbon monoxide poisoning. Several months later, his brother, George Jr., was killed in a car accident. In 1932, Zack Miller was forced to file for bankruptcy. The U.S. Government seized what remained of the show’s assets and bought 8,000 acres of the 101 Ranch. Zack Miller died in 1952 of cancer.

Today, what remains of the once-glorious three-story stucco 101 Ranch headquarters is rubble. Over ten years ago, efforts began to turn the site into a roadside park.

Bill Pickett, the inventor of bulldogging, or steer wrestling, is buried there. On the same mound where Bill Pickett lies is a memorial to the Ponca chief, White Eagle, who led his people to a nearby reservation during the 1870’s from their holdings along the Nebraska-Dakota border.

The stone monument was built as an Indian trail marker where signals and messages could be left by different friendly tribes who passed by. These tribes generally understood the signals, and could tell which way the other travelers were going. Gradually, settlers took away the stones for building purposes. Because Colonel George Miller and White Eagle were lifetime friends, and Joe Miller was adopted into the tribe, the renovation of the trail marker had significance to the 101 Ranch for many reasons.

The 101 Ranch was a bridge between these old, lost days of the early West, when Colonel George Miller started the venture as a settler after the States’ War, and the modern times of change. The 101 Ranch was the headquarters for the show business contingent of cowboys and other western performers of the early 1900’s. Will Rogers was a frequent visitor, as well as presidents and celebrities from around the world. Some of the first western movies were filmed on the 101 Ranch.

Though there isn’t much left of the actual building, the 101 Ranch exceeded the expectations for a “cattle ranch.” Indeed, it was a virtual palace on the Oklahoma plains; a place where dreams were lived.

In my novel, Fire Eyes, Kaed Turner talks with his friend and mentor, Tom Sellers, about giving up law enforcement and settling down to ranching. I don't think they ever had anything as grand as the 101 Ranch in mind. At first, Tom sees it as an unattainable dream; but as the conversation progresses, the possibilities look better. Here’s what happens!

FROM FIRE EYES:
Tom smiled. “Glad you’ve got somebody good—deep down—like you are, Kaed. Ain’t too many men who’d take on another man’s child, love her like you do your Lexi.”

Kaed put his hand against the rough wood of the tree and straightened out his arm, stretching his muscles.

Tom drew deeply on his pipe, and Kaed waited. He’d known Tom so long that he recognized the older man was going to broach a subject with him that he normally would have avoided. Finally, Tom said, “I told Harv he needed to find someone. Settle down again. Grow corn and make babies. Think I might’ve offended him. But after seein’ him with little Lexi, it hit me that he seemed content. For the first time in a long while.”

It had struck Kaed, as well. Harv rarely smiled. But when he’d played with Lexi, it seemed that grin of his was permanently fixed on his face.

“Seems that way for you, too, boy.” Tom wouldn’t look at him. “Seems like you found what you’ve been looking for. Don’t let marshalin’ ruin it for you, Kaed. I’ve stayed with it too long. Me and Harv and Jack, we’ve been damn lucky to get this old without gettin’ killed either in the War, or doin’ this job.”

“Tom? Sounds like you’ve got some regrets.”

Tom nodded. “You made me realize somethin’, Marshal Turner, and now I don’t know whether to thank you or cuss you. When I saw the way that woman looked at you, the way that baby’s eyes lit up, it made me know I shoulda give this all up years ago and found myself somebody. Taken the advice I gave Harv. Planted my seed in the cornfield and in my woman’s belly, and maybe I’d’a been happier, too.”

“It’s not too late.” Kaed’s voice was low and rough. The doubt he’d had at starting his own family again was suddenly erased by the older man’s words. Nothing would bring his first family back. But he had a second chance now, and he was a helluva lot younger than Tom Sellers. He’d had it twice, and Tom had never had it at all. Never felt the love flow through a woman, through her touch, her look, and into his own body, completing him. Never looked into the eyes of a child who worshipped him. He wouldn’t have missed that for anything the first time. Or the second.

Tom turned slowly to look at Kaed, the leaves of the elm tree patterning the filtering moonlight across his face. “You think that cause you’re young, Kaed. Twenty-nine ain’t forty-three.”

“Forty-three ain’t dead, Tom. There’s plenty of women out there. Plenty of land. Room to spread out. What’re you grinnin’ at?”

Tom laughed aloud. “Got any particular woman in mind?” Quickly, he added, “Now, remember, Kaed. She’s gotta be young enough to give me a baby, but not so young she’s a baby herself. Gotta be easy on the eye, and I want her to look at me like your Jessica looks at you. And by the way, have you got any idea where a fella could get a piece of good land for raisin’ cattle, with a little patch for farmin’?”

Kaed’s lips twitched. Tom was dreaming, but only half dreaming. The serious half had taken root in his heart and mind. Kaed knew before too much longer, that part would eat away at the lightheartedness until it took over completely, becoming a bold, unshakeable dream that he would do his utmost to accomplish. Now that Tom had envisioned what his life could be, Kaed knew it would fall to him to help make it a reality.

“Let’s end this business with Fallon. After that, we’ll find the land and the cattle.”

“Don’t mean nothin’ without the woman, Kaed. You oughtta know that.”

“I do.” Kaed smiled, his thoughts straying to Miss Amelia Bailey, the not-so-young-but-young-enough school teacher in Fort Smith, who always seemed to trip over her words when Tom Sellers came around. Just the right age. And very easy on the eye. “Stick with me, old man. I may even help you find a decent woman to settle down with.”

I'm giving away an autographed copy of FIRE EYES today to a lucky commenter! Please leave your contact info in your comment and be sure to check back sometime after 9:00 this evening to see if you were the winner of the drawing!

You can find more of my work here:
https://www.amazon.com/author/cherylpierson

Western Comics Focus on: INDEH

Troy D. Smith

Ethan Hawke starred in not one, but TWO western films last year: The Magnificent Seven and, to less fanfare, In a Valley of Violence (opposite John Travolta). But did you know that he also authored a graphic novel about Geronimo, called Indeh: A Story of the Apache Wars?

He had originally written it many years ago as a screenplay, inspired by the 1990s Geronimo film which featured Wes Studi as the title character -but gave him fourth billing, after three white actors who played guys who met Geronimo. He recalls thinking that no one would do that with a movie about, for example, Malcolm X -but that it seemed perfectly acceptable to Hollywood to do it to a Native character.

Once he had finished, however, he realized it would cost in excess of 200 million dollars to make -and that he would never be able to get anyone in Hollywood to spring that much cash for a movie that didn't have a white person as the main character. So instead of a film, he decided to go the route of a graphic novel (where there is no special effects or location budget.) He teamed with artist Greg Ruth, whose work had appeared in comics such as Star Wars and Conan, to produce a story centered on Cochise and Geronimo, set in 1872. When it came out last summer (2016) it immediately became a New York Times bestseller.

Hawke and Ruth strive to put the Apaches back at the center of their own story, and tells it from the Apache characters' point of view. The foreword is by Douglas Miles, owner of the company Apache Skateboards (and an Apache). The book, in a rarity for a graphic novel, includes a bibliography so that readers who want to learn more about Apache history will know where to look.

I heard about this book when it came out, but haven't had a chance to read it yet. I plan to remedy that soon.

It certainly looks good! Anyone out there want to tell us if it was?

GERONIMO WAS HERE by Vonn McKee

 Author’s Note: I tried to relax at the beach, I really did. I settled onto the sofa, propped up my feet, and took in the tropical view outside. But then…I picked up one of those coffee-table picture books* and began flipping through the pages of local history. That’s when I saw his familiar deep-lined, slightly defiant face, frozen in grainy black and white. Now just what are you doing in a book about Pensacola Beach history? I asked him.

I would spend the next two days creeping through the damp corridors of an abandoned fort, then researching and writing this blog post.

VM

THE END OF THE TRAIL

The cross-country trip by train had been fraught with delays: damaged tracks and the clearing of an accident near New Orleans. It was late October of 1886, but the heat still hovered like a stifling blanket over the coastal South. A stocky, weathered man shifted on the sticky leather seat. Light high-desert breezes stirred at the back of his memory. At every depot stop, hundreds of people thronged to catch a glimpse of the train’s special cargo, holding up coins in exchange for any souvenir he might offer: a button, a belt ring, a shred of clothing.

When the train reached the railroad wharf at Pensacola, Florida, a double row of soldiers shielded him and his traveling party from onlookers as they stepped from the coach and made their way aboard an excursion steamer. Dozens of boats bobbed in the choppy bay waters. People pointed, waved, shouted his name.

He and his fifteen companions crossed the largest span of water they had ever seen, bravely ignoring the porpoises rolling in the waves alongside the boat. In his culture, souls crossed over into death in the bodies of fish. Ahead, on a small island, loomed a hulking red brick fort surrounded by brilliant white sand and sparse, twisting pines. When his foot touched the edge of the beach, salt water closed over the toe of his boot.

He had been a warrior for most of his nearly sixty years. Now, he was a prisoner of war. He overheard one of his tribesmen say as they fell into line, “We will never see Mexico again.”

Geronimo–feared Apache leader and terror of the southwest plains–followed the guards up the sandy slope and into the dark barrel vaults of Fort Pickens.

En route to Pensacola (Geronimo at front, 3rd from right)

A DEAL IS STRUCK

The Bedonkohe band of Chiricahua Apache, under the leadership of Geronimo and Naiche (Natchez), son of Cochise, spent years conducting raids across the Sonora and into Mexico in resistance to white colonization and confinement of their people to reservations. Geronimo especially hated the Mexicans, who had murdered his mother, wife and children. Finally, in a desperate effort to end the Indian Wars, the U.S. Army recruited Apache scouts and sent thousands of troops across the Sonoran Desert and into the Sierra Madre mountains. Their objective: flush out Geronimo and bring him to justice for the countless murders he had committed.

On September 4,1886, the last of Geronimo’s band gathered in Skeleton Valley, Arizona. After thirty years of defending his land, Geronimo was finished. He would be the last native warrior to formally surrender to the United States. The exact terms are not known, but the commanding general, Nelson Miles, is thought to have promised the Apache a few years of imprisonment and a possible return to their homelands. (He did this without the blessing of President Grover Cleveland, who favored death by hanging for Geronimo’s many war crimes.)

While the Apache wives and children were shipped to Fort Marion in St. Augustine, Florida, Geronimo and his best warriors (including cousin Perico and the six-foot-four Natchez) were rerouted to Pensacola due to a petition filed by a local business opportunist named Sowell C. Cobb. It could be argued that one of the earliest tourist attractions at Pensacola Beach was this small, proud band of Apache warriors.

Geronimo's quarters were located at lower right hand corner

SURROUNDED BY THE SEA

Sowell Cobb’s vision of Pensacola popularity came true. Visitors from around the world sojourned to Santa Rosa Island for a viewing of the imprisoned savages. Great yachts moored in the sound while the esteemed passengers disembarked in hopes of meeting Geronimo face to face. The Apache were occupied with repair and maintenance of the aging Ft. Pickens. They dug water wells and planted Bermuda grass on the parade grounds. In the summer of 1887, they were given permission to celebrate a ritual Corn Dance.

Slave-built brick vaults

Geronimo pictured in the same area

In May of 1888, Geronimo’s group was reunited with their families and tribesmen and were moved to Mount Vernon, Alabama, where they spent five years. Their popularity soared even more. At times, the crowds reached a thousand a day.

In 1894, the U.S. government gave Geronimo and the surviving members of his band 50,000 acres for a “permanent home” at Ft. Sill, Oklahoma. (In 1903, the military reneged on the initial agreement and decided to retain Ft. Sill as a field artillery training installation.)

Pensacola, Florida

By then an old man, Geronimo had been a guest of honor at the 1904 World’s Fair and had met President Teddy Roosevelt. He deduced in his autobiography that “…white people…are a very kind and peaceful people.”

Geronimo died at Ft. Sill in 1909 just short of his ninetieth birthday, having never seen his Arizona homeland again. He spent his last twenty-seven years as a U.S. prisoner of war.

 I feel privileged to have walked in at least a few of his steps.




All the best,

Vonn McKee

2015 WWA Spur Finalist (Short Fiction)
2015 Western Fictioneers Peacemaker Finalist (Short Fiction)

Geronimo's View, Ft. Pickens

Visit Ft. Pickens at Gulf Islands National Seashore 

*My thanks to Deborah Dunlap for the inspiration found in her book, “Historic Pensacola Beach Photographs” and also to David L. Walby for the historical details found in his booklet, “Geronimo Comes to Pensacola.”

Writing into the Sunshine

The first stories I made up were not written down. 

 

I’m betting you were the same way. What is now a professional endeavor to spin wild west yarns started with a thread of imagination woven through summer tapestries. Maybe, like me, you were Lucas McCain or Annie Oakley or Roy or Dale, making it up as you went along, writing in your head, not so much into the dark, as into the sunshine.

I was also lucky enough to own a few MARX Wild West toys, and I had a pal  with the figures and accessories I didn’t have.  Saturdays and weekday afternoons, we’d combine our sets for B-matinee style adventure. 

Forty years later, Johnny West and Geronimo are comparatively still, content to perch on my bookshelf and watch over my son Wyatt, as he constructs his own series of tales.  I’m not as complacent. When, more than a year ago, he showed me the series of Lone Ranger tie-in playsets available from LEGO, I wanted one of everything. So did he. We did the math and realized, with other responsibilities already budgeted in, it would take close to a year to get it all. Maybe less if we put some stuff on the Christmas and birthday list. So before the movie came out (and this post is not about the Lone Ranger movie, but about the toys), we made our plans.

A few weeks ago, with the Comanche Camp, we finished our collection.  LEGO blocks being what they are, and with the planned obsolescence of sub-atomic sized accessories, we probably don’t have a 100% complete set even now. But collecting it all for the sake of a collection, for simply putting it on display wasn’t the point. The point was to use it to create our own adventures, or reinvent scenes from Lone Ranger books, comics, TV shows, or yes, even the 2013 movie.  (And in that sense, I guess this post is about the movie. Whatever was wrong with the Disney production, we quickly came home and fixed it through our own restaged efforts.)

I won’t run through the list of Lone Ranger LEGO playsets here. That’s for Amazon or Lego.com if you’re interested. 

Just wanted to share with you two things this day, one week before Father’s Day. The first is that young people can and will enjoy all the tropes of the old west, and they’ll be eager to make up their own. Yep, even without dirty jokes or references to current pop culture. I know because I’ve seen it with my son and his friends. They simply need someone to show them the way. 

Second, my guess is that LEGO overestimated the success of The Lone Ranger and produced more than it sold. Like the Dick Tracy licensing glut of 1990, the movie was less than its hype. That said, there’s no danger of this stuff being hard to find.  So if you see the Stagecoach Escape playset, pick it up. If you see the Silver Mine Shootout, tap into it. Share them with somebody who’s young enough to reinvent the old west in new ways. Once more, you’ll be writing into the sunshine.

DREAMS FOR SALE--THE STORY OF THE 101 RANCH by CHERYL PIERSON

On a vast open plain a few miles south of Ponca City, Oklahoma, lies the burial ground of one of the greatest ranching empires of the West—the Miller brothers’ 101 Ranch.

Established in 1893 by Colonel George Washington Miller, a former Confederate soldier, and his wife Molly, the 101 became known as the “Largest Diversified Farm and Ranch in America.” It was nicknamed the “White House.”

Not only was the 101 one of the largest working ranches west of the Mississippi, it was even more famous for its Wild West shows. These displays of horsemanship, roping, and daring “rescues” transitioned from local shows to the national level in 1907 when the 101 Wild West Show performed at the Jamestown Exposition in Virginia. In 1908, the tour circuit began in earnest.

The Miller brothers, Joseph, George Jr., and Zack, had permitted some of their cowboys to perform at a local fair, and from this, their own Wild West show grew to become known worldwide.

It was essentially a Wild West show, complete with cattle, buffaloes, cowboys and Indians. It included an all-around crowd pleaser—the attack on the stagecoach. But it also contained elements of the circus with sideshows, and “freaks” such as the Bearded Lady. In the heyday of its popularity, the Millers’ 101 Wild West Show netted them over one million dollars per year!

The idea of formalizing the performing cowboys into a Wild West show came from the Millers’ longtime friend and neighbor, Major Gordon W. Lillie—also known as Pawnee Bill. Pawnee Bill eventually combined his own Wild West show with Buffalo Bill Cody’s. The 101 Wild West Show, however, remained solitary, boasting stars such as black bulldogger Bill Pickett, Bee Ho Gray, early movie star Tom Mix, Mexican Joe, and eventually, Buffalo Bill Cody as well.

The Miller brothers were latecomers to the Wild West show circuit, causing them to suffer financially with the advent of movies. Even so, their show became the largest in the nation by the 1920’s, requiring more than 100 train cars to travel from town to town.

By 1916, the two younger Miller brothers, George Jr. and Zack, gave up trying to work with their temperamental oldest brother, Joe. It was during this time period that Joe hired an aging Buffalo Bill Cody to star in a WWI recruitment show: The Pageant of Preparedness. Cody quit the show due to illness, and died within a year. Still, Joe tried to keep the show going, but was unsuccessful. He offered it for sale to the American Circus Corporation in 1927. They were uninterested, suffering from financial distress as well. On October 21, 1927, a neighbor found Joe Miller dead in the ranch garage of carbon monoxide poisoning. Several months later, his brother, George Jr., was killed in a car accident. In 1932, Zack Miller was forced to file for bankruptcy. The U.S. Government seized what remained of the show’s assets and bought 8,000 acres of the 101 Ranch. Zack Miller died in 1952 of cancer.

Today, what remains of the once-glorious three-story stucco 101 Ranch headquarters is rubble. Over ten years ago, efforts began to turn the site into a roadside park.

Bill Pickett, the inventor of bulldogging, or steer wrestling, is buried there. On the same mound where Bill Pickett lies is a memorial to the Ponca chief, White Eagle, who led his people to a nearby reservation during the 1870’s from their holdings along the Nebraska-Dakota border.

The stone monument was built as an Indian trail marker where signals and messages could be left by different friendly tribes who passed by. These tribes generally understood the signals, and could tell which way the other travelers were going. Gradually, settlers took away the stones for building purposes. Because Colonel George Miller and White Eagle were lifetime friends, and Joe Miller was adopted into the tribe, the renovation of the trail marker had significance to the 101 Ranch for many reasons.

The 101 Ranch was a bridge between these old, lost days of the early West, when Colonel George Miller started the venture as a settler after the States’ War, and the modern times of change. The 101 Ranch was the headquarters for the show business contingent of cowboys and other western performers of the early 1900’s. Will Rogers was a frequent visitor, as well as presidents and celebrities from around the world. Some of the first western movies were filmed on the 101 Ranch.

Though there isn’t much left of the actual building, the 101 Ranch exceeded the expectations for a “cattle ranch.” Indeed, it was a virtual palace on the Oklahoma plains; a place where dreams were lived.

In my novel, Fire Eyes, Kaed Turner talks with his friend and mentor, Tom Sellers, about giving up law enforcement and settling down to ranching. I don't think they ever had anything as grand as the 101 Ranch in mind. At first, Tom sees it as an unattainable dream; but as the conversation progresses, the possibilities look better. Here’s what happens!

FROM FIRE EYES:
Tom smiled. “Glad you’ve got somebody good—deep down—like you are, Kaed. Ain’t too many men who’d take on another man’s child, love her like you do your Lexi.”

Kaed put his hand against the rough wood of the tree and straightened out his arm, stretching his muscles.

Tom drew deeply on his pipe, and Kaed waited. He’d known Tom so long that he recognized the older man was going to broach a subject with him that he normally would have avoided. Finally, Tom said, “I told Harv he needed to find someone. Settle down again. Grow corn and make babies. Think I might’ve offended him. But after seein’ him with little Lexi, it hit me that he seemed content. For the first time in a long while.”

It had struck Kaed, as well. Harv rarely smiled. But when he’d played with Lexi, it seemed that grin of his was permanently fixed on his face.

“Seems that way for you, too, boy.” Tom wouldn’t look at him. “Seems like you found what you’ve been looking for. Don’t let marshalin’ ruin it for you, Kaed. I’ve stayed with it too long. Me and Harv and Jack, we’ve been damn lucky to get this old without gettin’ killed either in the War, or doin’ this job.”

“Tom? Sounds like you’ve got some regrets.”

Tom nodded. “You made me realize somethin’, Marshal Turner, and now I don’t know whether to thank you or cuss you. When I saw the way that woman looked at you, the way that baby’s eyes lit up, it made me know I shoulda give this all up years ago and found myself somebody. Taken the advice I gave Harv. Planted my seed in the cornfield and in my woman’s belly, and maybe I’d’a been happier, too.”

“It’s not too late.” Kaed’s voice was low and rough. The doubt he’d had at starting his own family again was suddenly erased by the older man’s words. Nothing would bring his first family back. But he had a second chance now, and he was a helluva lot younger than Tom Sellers. He’d had it twice, and Tom had never had it at all. Never felt the love flow through a woman, through her touch, her look, and into his own body, completing him. Never looked into the eyes of a child who worshipped him. He wouldn’t have missed that for anything the first time. Or the second.

Tom turned slowly to look at Kaed, the leaves of the elm tree patterning the filtering moonlight across his face. “You think that cause you’re young, Kaed. Twenty-nine ain’t forty-three.”

“Forty-three ain’t dead, Tom. There’s plenty of women out there. Plenty of land. Room to spread out. What’re you grinnin’ at?”

Tom laughed aloud. “Got any particular woman in mind?” Quickly, he added, “Now, remember, Kaed. She’s gotta be young enough to give me a baby, but not so young she’s a baby herself. Gotta be easy on the eye, and I want her to look at me like your Jessica looks at you. And by the way, have you got any idea where a fella could get a piece of good land for raisin’ cattle, with a little patch for farmin’?”

Kaed’s lips twitched. Tom was dreaming, but only half dreaming. The serious half had taken root in his heart and mind. Kaed knew before too much longer, that part would eat away at the lightheartedness until it took over completely, becoming a bold, unshakeable dream that he would do his utmost to accomplish. Now that Tom had envisioned what his life could be, Kaed knew it would fall to him to help make it a reality.

“Let’s end this business with Fallon. After that, we’ll find the land and the cattle.”

“Don’t mean nothin’ without the woman, Kaed. You oughtta know that.”

“I do.” Kaed smiled, his thoughts straying to Miss Amelia Bailey, the not-so-young-but-young-enough school teacher in Fort Smith, who always seemed to trip over her words when Tom Sellers came around. Just the right age. And very easy on the eye. “Stick with me, old man. I may even help you find a decent woman to settle down with.”

I'm giving away an autographed copy of FIRE EYES today to a lucky commenter! Please leave your contact info in your comment and be sure to check back sometime after 9:00 this evening to see if you were the winner of the drawing!

You can find more of my work here:
https://www.amazon.com/author/cherylpierson

Wild West 101 – Part 2

From 1881 until his death in 1903, the patriarch of the Millers’ 101 Ranch, G.W. Miller, put together a cattle empire the likes of which the American West had never seen. It spread over 110,000 acres in the northern part of the Oklahoma Territory on land leased from the Ponca, Otoe, and Cherokee tribes. Pasturing thousands of head of cattle, a remuda of hundreds of horses, and a large herd of American bison, it had its own railroad, its own postal service, several schools and churches. They built their own network of roads for both ranch and public use, and they put in a telephone system to connect ranch headquarters with every foreman in the far reaches. After oil was discovered on the ranch, a refinery and electrical power plant were built. Every machine on the ranch ran on oil produced and refined by The 101 Ranch Oil Company, which eventually evolved into Conoco.

The Hundred and One, as it was called, had its own farming complex growing more than enough food for their own human and livestock consumption. Huge orchards produced bushel upon bushel of apples, cherries, and peaches. Buckets of grapes hung from lush arbors, and they harvested fresh vegetables from acres of gardens, plus wheat and corn and cotton. Of course, they had plenty of beef to eat, but they also raised pork and poultry and had a large dairy herd. They built a cider mill, a cannery, a tannery, an ice plant, a dairy, and a packing plant.

The cowhands and other ranch employees – over 300 of them – were paid in 101 scrip and coinage which they could use at the ranch laundry, café, and store. It’s said the company commissary, an imposing two-story structure, was more department store than trading post where one could buy anything from a shirt button to an automobile. The employees bought their clothes and groceries there, but it developed into a thriving tourist shop, too.

Although impressive, tourists didn’t flock to the 101 just to see the ranch operations. What eventually brought them in droves were productions of the Miller Brothers’ Wild West Shows. Around 1905, after some of the cowboys from the 101 put on roping, riding, and rodeo-ing exhibitions at local county fairs, the owner of a neighboring ranch southeast of The Hundred and One, suggested to the three Miller brothers that they produce their own wild west shows at the ranch. The eldest brother, Joseph, who ran the day-to-day operations of the ranch, thought that might be a good way to get publicity for the 101. He could already see the success the aforementioned neighbor, Gordon William “Pawnee Bill” Lillie, was having with his own shows, plus those of William “Buffalo Bill” Cody and Zach Mulhall.

Joe came up with a plan. In May, 1904 he accompanied his friend Frank H. Greer, the editor of the Guthrie, Oklahoma newspaper, to the St. Louis World’s Fair where the National Editorial Association was also holding their annual convention. Joe had in mind, with Greer’s influence, to convince the association members – editors and publishers of newspapers from across the country – to hold their next convention in Guthrie and The Hundred and One where he promised a show of cowboy and Indian acts that would “pop the eyes right out of their heads.” The group was intrigued and readily voted the venue for their 1905 convention.

When the date came around in June of 1905 Joe Miller and his brothers had put together a wild west

show that more than lived up to its year-long hyperbolic promotions. In addition to the National Editorial Association and the National Cattlemen’s Association, more than sixty thousand people from New York to Los Angeles flocked to witness the spectacle. The Millers had enclosed a thirty acre arena with grandstands that stretched for more than a mile, all filled to capacity. The elite, including those citified editors and publishers, stayed in the scores of Pullman cars the trains had brought them in; but most, the common folk, camped out. On those warm summer nights the lights of hundreds of campfires and glowing tents spread out for miles along the banks of the Salt Fork River.

P.T. Barnum had nothing as a promoter over Joe Miller. Most times he had a direct hand in the advancements, but Joe didn’t discourage rumors of the event’s grandiosity, either. In fact, he probably planted a few. One brochure stated that 500 cowboys and cowgirls would perform along with a thousand Indians, hundreds of buffalo, and that the great Apache chief Geronimo would be brought in to “shoot his last buffalo.”

Nobody really counted, but many, many mounted cowboys and cowgirls came into the arena at the Grand Entrance along with hundreds of Indians representing seven different tribes. Several marching bands were interspersed, and at the end a dozen Conestoga wagons trundled into the arena, driven by “pioneers.” 

Geronimo

The parade stretched out for a mile, and the old Chiricahua warrior was there as promised. Seven

troopers had escorted him up from Fort Sill where he’d been imprisoned. He was driven into the arena seated in a car, smiling and waving. Michael Wallis, in his definitive book on the 101, The Real Wild West, suggested Geronimo may have been amused at the idea of “shooting his last buffalo.” Fact was, the Apaches had quit hunting buffalo long before he was born. Actually, the targeted buffalo would be Geronimo’s first. And he did shoot it, or at least at it. He stepped from the automobile and fired the rifle handed to him. The first shot missed, so they chased the buffalo closer to the old chief. It took several shots to bring the animal down, some from the attending wranglers, but when it was all said and done, Geronimo was credited with the kill and received a standing O from the raucous crowd.

That first show at the Miller Brothers 101 Ranch was a rousing success and, as Joe hoped, it put the 101 on the map, not only for Americans, but Europeans as well. The 1905 show launched a run of Wild West shows that lasted for nearly three decades performing before boisterous adoring crowds, including kings and queens and presidents. They billed performers such as Tom Mix, Will Rogers, and an aging "Buffalo Bill" Cody. The sensational teenager Lucille Mulhall performed her astounding trick-riding and roping. The black cowboy, Bill Pickett, the inventor of the rodeo event of bulldogging, brought audiences to their feet with his courage and

Bulldoggin' Bill Pickett

daring when he leapt from his horse onto the neck of a running steer and brought it to the ground with a bite to the animal's upper lip.

At the onset of the Great Depression economic bad times hit the 101, and the shows had to close. Joe and the youngest brother George Jr. had died, leaving Zack to run the business, but in 1931 the ranch went into receivership. The land was divided and leased and all the personal property auctioned. The once great cattle empire and site of the greatest wild west shows on earth were scattered to the winds. Today all that’s left of the magnificent Hundred and One is a National Historic Marker off Highway 156 just west of Ponca City, Oklahoma.

To learn more about the 101, I highly recommend you pick up a copy of Michael Wallis's Western Heritage and Spur award-winning book The Real Wild West, The 101 Ranch and the Creation of the American West (St. Martin's Griffin, New York).

Phil Truman has authored three of what he calls, “Oklahoma-centric” novels.  Red Lands Outlaw, the Ballad of Henry Starr,  a historical novel about the life and times of an Oklahoma outlaw, was a 2013 Peacemaker Award nominee and finalist for the 2013 Will Rogers Medallion for Western Fiction. His novel GAME, an American Novel is a sports inspirational about small town schoolboy football. Legends of Tsalagee weaves a tale of mystery and adventure in a small town. His western short story “Last Will for an Outlaw” appears in LaFrontera Publishing’s anthology, Dead or Alive, released June 2013. 
Phil’s website is: http://philtrumanink.com/