Haunted Northern California

Dear Friends,

Usually, around September, I start getting requests for stories dealing with ghosts. Yes, ghosts. Maybe it has to do with October and Halloween right around the corner, but it's been pretty constant for a few years now. About September, people want to know about haunted places in the Old West. My most recent letter is from a readers who wants to know about haunted Northern California.

This had me thinking about a relatively modern story of the World War II aircraft carrier the USS Hornet (CV-12), which is right now docked at the old Alameda Naval Air Station in the San Francisco Bay Area. That ship is supposedly the most haunted ship in the entire U.S. Navy. It saw a lot of action in its day. And today, well some say voices of Sailors and Marines are heard in the passage ways and even in the engine room.

The ship is today a floating museum piece. Of course there are areas where only volunteers and other authorized personnel can enter. When voices are heard in those areas of the ship, and they are thought to be lost visitors, visitors who've gone astray, volunteers are used to track the down and find them. In more occasions than not, no one can find the source of the voices. No one's there. The same goes for when a docent has to check out the sound of a compartment hatch closing and finds that nothing has been disturbed.

I was told the story of the sound of a hammer or wrench being hit on a bulkhead near the engine room. When investigated, the sound stops. The slow tapping on the bulkhead has been compared to an SOS. Some say it has to do with a Sailor who died in the engine room.

In the city of Oakland, some folks say the old city jail located on the top of its City Hall is haunted by both jailers and prisoners. Some tell stories of hearing the groans of tortured prisoners. 

In the city of Fremont, Mission San Jose is reported to be haunted by those who died tragically during a fire and as a result of the earthquakes that also damaged the mission. There are also stories of local Indians who were killed by the hands of Spaniards, both Priests and Soldier alike. Some say the souls of those Indians refuse to rest. Also, there is pioneer graveyard across from the Fremont Train Station that some say is active with the sights of unsettled souls.

In the town of Pleasanton, the Pleasanton Hotel was built in the 1850s and is said to be haunted. During its rich history, besides being a hotel and saloon back in the day, the hotel served as a impromptu courthouse and had a tunnel that led from it to the police station next door. When the hotel was no longer being used to hold court, there are stories of how the tunnel's entry to the police station was cut off. Some say that it was collapsed. Others say it may have been flood with water.

Then again, that may have only been a portion of it since it's believe that the abandoned tunnel may have been used as an opium den. Yes, right under the hotel just a just a few yards from the town's police station. I was once told that there were a number of dead Chinamen pulled out of that tunnel over the years. Most dead from overdoses and poisonings, others are said to have been Chinese women. Yes, prostitutes who may have killed themselves.

While San Francisco and Oakland's Chinatown has a number of haunted places where the ghost of Chinese prostitutes are said to show themselves now and then, so do other places where the Chinese made a start during the Gold Rush. Of course, as many already know, the cribs that made up many of the Chinetowns lasted for decades following their humble beginnings.

As for the Pleasanton Hotel, its bar has seen its share of shootings and killings over the years. Its said that even famed Mexican bandit Joaquin Murrietta made his way through there on more than a few occasions.

The famous Winchester Mystery House is located in the city of San Jose. It is supposedly haunted by the ghost of its eccentric builder, Sarah Winchester. She is said to have built the strange mansion to protect herself from the spirits of all of the Indians killed by her late husband's famous line of rifles.

The problem with that story is that Oliver Winchester was never an actual gunsmith like say Sam Colt or the team of Smith & Wesson. Actually, Winchester only got involved in gun manufacturing after becoming wealthy making shirts. I can't help but wonder if maybe the people who haunt the mansion are those who hated his line of shirts?

Over the mountain range in Santa Cruz County, The Brookdale Lodge in Brookdale is reportedly haunted by the spirit of Sarah Logan, the niece of the former owner, who drowned in what is now known as the Brook Room. Up the coast in San Mateo County, there's the Moss Beach Distillery in Moss Beach. The bar and restaurant overlook the ocean and is reported to be haunted by the spirit of a Blue Lady. Yes, a Blue Lady!

Just for the record, when I was in the Philippines in 1975, the locals talked about a White Lady who was a specter seen here and there. When I worked down South in Georgia and Louisiana off and on during the 1990s, I was told about a few White Ladies here and there. But in Moss Beach, their ghostly lady is blue. Not a dark Navy Blue, more a light blue. 

How do I know this? I remember hearing the story many years ago on a trip down the coast to Moss Beach. After hearing about the ghostly Blue Lady, I asked someone there if their Blue Lady was a dark Navy Blue, or if she was more a light blue? I will always remember how sincere the person was when he said that she was a light blue so that she can be seen.  

The woman who now haunts that place had supposedly died in the area awaiting her husband to come back from sea. The restaurant has been featured on a number of paranormal television shows where of course they report the accounts are true. Shocking as it might sound, one television show had props that helped reenact the experiences for guests. Can you say tourist draw?!

I have a friend who used to live up near Del Norte County. He told me about the Battery Point Lighthouse near Crescent City. It is reported haunted by a resident ghost that has been seen by six different people. And no, I don't know if it is the story about the Lighthouse Keeper who went mad and killed himself.

In the town of Tracy, the Banta Inn is reported to be haunted since the 1930s, including the sighting of the former owner of the inn, Tony Gallegos, who died of a heart attack in the building. There are also reports of poltergeist activity that happens in the bar.

Over in the town of Antioch, there is the Black Diamond Mines area where it has been reported to have had numerous accounts of paranormal activity. In fact, there is the story of the White Witch. Supposedly she was executed for being a witch after all of the kids in her care died of some strange illness. Another story for that area is that of Sarah Norton, who haunts the Rose Hill Cemetery after she was run over and crushed to death by her horse and carriage.

As most know, because of the 1849 California Gold Rush, people were crawling all over the Sierra Nevada Mountains looking for gold by the 1850s. In fact, it's said that the California Gold Country was the most populated place in the world for a little while. And while everyone was chasing their dream, back during the California Gold Rush, dreams were of gold.

Once it was found at Sutter's Mill near Sacramento, people from all over the world were convinced there was enough for everyone. But the fact is, only a few got rich. Many Easterners returned East with empty pockets and heartache. And I'm sure they were glad to get away from the toil and the blood. Because of murder, mayhem, suicide, and the like, there is no shortage of haunted places throughout California. While some are really well known, others are known only to locals who live in those areas.

Up at the north end of the California Gold Country is Placer County. Christine's room at The Richardson House in Truckee is said to be haunted by Christine Richardson. The ghost of a young woman has been reported as being seen standing by the room's window. No one really knows why she haunts. Some believe she was jilted and watches for her lost love. Other say she was a young woman who mourns the loss of her child.

Also, the Truckee area is where the Donner Party met their end. The Donner Party was a wagon train party headed to California. George Donner was the principle organizer of a California-bound wagon train from Springfield, Illinois. The Donner Party actually departed Missouri on the Oregon Trail in the spring of 1846. They were following behind many other pioneer wagon trains, all attempting to make the same overland trip.

The wagon train's were known to take between four and six months to get to California. The Donner Party lost precious time because they decided to follow a new route called the Hastings Cutoff. This was meant to bypass established trails and save time. Instead, it crossed some of the most desolate and rugged terrain imaginable. To make maters worse, they loss of cattle and other wagons. Because of infighting, the group splintered.

All of this resulted in them reaching Truckee Lake, which is now called Donner Lake, in early-November, they were trapped by an early heavy snowfall. They were snowbound in the Sierra Nevada Mountains in the winter of 1846. With their food supplies low, by mid-December some of the group set out on foot to find help.

At the same time, rescuers from California attempted to reach the party. Sadly, the first relief party did not arrive until the middle of February of 1847. That was almost four months after the wagon train became trapped in the high mountains. Legend says they resorted to cannibalism to survive. Supposedly, the survivors ate those who died from sickness and starvation. Of the 87 members of the Donner Party, only 48 survived the ordeal.

Tamsen Donner was the wife of George Donner. When rescuers finally came, George was too weak from a gangrene infection of his arm. Of course he was also too starved to travel. Tamsen refused to be rescued and stayed with her husband. They both died, and Tamsen's body was never found. Some say she haunts Donner Lake. It's also said that guests who visit the Donner State Memorial Park have seen a "weird yellowish figure floating above the ground" there.

The National Exchange Hotel in Nevada City is reportedly haunted by spirits that have died during the night. The Stonehouse Brewery in Nevada City is reportedly haunted by Chinese immigrants that were killed in the tunnels underneath that property. Again, no telling if it was a situation where the tunnels were opium dens or cribs. 

I was told that the Del Oro Theatre in the town of Grass Valley is haunted. Its said to have "a few resident ghosts" there. The Holbrooke Hotel in Grass Valley has housed many famous residents including Mark Twain and three American Presidents.

The Holbrooke Hotel is also home to the famous suicide gambler, a man who slit his own throat and was found dead in a pool of blood. While it's real hard to believe that anyone is capable of cutting their own throat, his suicide letter can be found at the Doris Foley Library in Nevada City.

The Holbrooke Hotel's spooks don't stop with a gambler at the end of his string of luck, that hotel has plenty of spooky stuff taking place there. It has chairs moving across the floor, lights turning on and off, and voices lingering in the air, guests report hearing the sounds of little ghost children jumping on old mattress springs, as well as sighting the notable cowboy ghost who appears only from waist up and a Victorian-dressed maid who walks the halls of the Holbrooke.

Old Sacramento is reportedly haunted by victims of influenza, fire, and flooding. The other part of Sacramento that most folks don't know about is that it was actually more violent than Dodge City and Tombstone combined. The spirits of those who died during those gun battles are said to roam Old Sacramento.

The Cary House in Placerville is reported to have a haunt that dates back to the 1930's involving a lot of unexplained noises and phenomena. And yes, since the town was originally called Hangtown, they have had their share of sighting of convicts who were hung by Vigilantes.

Closer to my home over in Amador County, in the town of Ione where my Mom lives, there's a place simply known as "The Preston Castle" or "The Castle." It's real name is The Preston School of Industry. It was once a home for troubled youths. "The castle" had its share of deaths and suffering. Allegedly, the ghost of a caretaker who was bludgeoned to death by students still resides there.

When I visited the castle, I remember a few folks on the tour having an eerie feeling and feeling a cold presence of the lady who was the school's cook before being killed and put in a closet. Her body was found later after disappearing for a few days. It is said that she scratches the closet door to be let out. The boys who killed her were never found.

The National Hotel in the town of Jackson is another place that was built in the 1850s. It is reported to house some specters that have died on the hotel premises. Supposedly one is the ghost of a depressed miner who hung himself. Another is said to be a bartender who was shot in the hotel bar by a jealous husband.

In the town of San Andreas, they say a women who was jilted by her lover can be seen waiting outside the old library. People say she has waited there for him for more than a century. South of San Andreas in the town of Angles Camp, its said that famous writer Mark Twain has been seen once on the sidewalk downtown heading for a bar that he used to frequent when he was living there. He was actually a young reporter there. It's where he wrote his most famous yarn.

Of course, there are the ghosts of those who fought the tough Sierra Nevada Mountains to get to California by wagon train. Up on Highway 88 near Immigrant Pass, it's said that the crying of a baby has been heard by a few folks camping up near the summit. Some think that it may be the spirit of a child that may have died along the way and now sits in an unmarked grave up there somewhere.

Over on the other side up near the summit at the end of Highway 4 is the Lake Alpine Lodge. That place is said to be haunted by a couple who died when the top floor of the lodge collapsed in a massive snowstorm back in the 1920s. There's also the tale of a lady that haunts the lake. There are reports of sightings of that lady since she drowned in the lake and her body was never found. That was back in the 1950s, and both locals and summer visitors have said that she can be seen sitting on the rocks at the lake during the spring and summer months.

In the town of Sonora, the Tuolumne General Hospital is reportedly haunted by miners and patients who died from neglect. Neglect, you ask. Well, that's what legend says. But really, it was probably more a case of medical folks back then not knowing how to treat something that we today take for granted. For example, the flu. The influenza virus, what we all refer to simply as the "flu," of the 1830s affected 20 to 25 percent of the world's population. In reality, it killed more people than gunshots, accidents, most other ailments including cancers, and wars at the time. 

At the Yosemite Valley, in what is today the Yosemite National Park, there have been visitors who swear that they have seen the ghosts of Indians killed during the Mariposa Indian War. Some say they have heard the cries of the starving Ahwahnechee children -- those who were the victims of the Mariposa Battalion who burned the Ahwahnechee villages and took their food stores. Yes, to starve those Indians into submission.

In Calaveras County, we have our share of spooks who refuse to rest. The Hotel Léger in the town of Mokelumne Hill is reported to be haunted by the spirit of George Léger, the former owner of the hotel. His presence is most felt in the room that he died in. That would be Room 7 for those want to explore such things.

As for ghosts of those who have been shot in an Old West street, Mokelumne Hill was one of the most violent towns in the West. People took their life in their hands just crossing Main Street. That's why the people there dug a tunnel from the Hotel Léger that led to the other side of the street. It's believed some of the dead still haunt the town.

Yes, including those Chinese who were killed there as victims of the Tong War. No telling who was killed when one Chinese gang burned down a Chinese temple. As for the dead being restless, I'm sure race after death means very little. So no, there's no telling how many Chinese do not sleep.

As for news articles out of the Mokelumne Hill area, news of what was taking place back in the day, all talk about runaway wagons and teamsters who met their end, miners who fall down shafts that go hundreds of feet into the earth, loggers crushed, Indians found dead, and murders by those who wanted to get rich off someone else's hard work.

As for those who broke the law, it's said that justice was swift in most cases and the murderers were hanged. Sometimes those who broke the law got away with it and were never found. As for people getting away with murder, especially murdering travelers new to the gold camps, there were those who got away with it.

Back in the 1930s, during the Great Depression, a rancher whose property was near Mokelumne Hill was digging a post hole while putting in some fencing. Soon, he started pulling out pieces of a human skeleton. It wasn't long before he unearthed a human skull. After digging more and more, he reveled the bones of a number of people. Yes, more than just one or two skulls.

He immediately contacted the sheriff. The county authorities arrived on his property and went to work. The area of interest was expanded, and soon more bones and skulls were unearthed. More than a dozen bodies were found.

After examination of the bones, it was determined that the bones belonged to young travelers and miners who were all killed very violently during the California Gold Rush of the mid-1800s. All had been buried there for decades.

The rancher had no idea that such a thing existed on his land. Then local records where checked and it was reveled that his property was once the site of a gold mining camp, a small town, back in the 1850s. Along with human remains, authorities found clothing and shoes. The clothing and shoes both pointed to the period when the victims lived.

Also, they unearthed evidence pointing to the existence of a saloon at that spot. It was called a Fandango House. It was a sort of brothel, gambling place, dance hall, hotel, and store. All of the dead are believed to have stopped there. All were murdered for their goods and gold, then buried in a shallow mass grave.

Of the bones found, none were ever identified. Fact is, there was no way to identify the victims. It was a just a part of life to strike out on one's own. It's believed they left their families in the East and headed to California to get rich. Instead, they were murdered before ever reaching the gold fields in most cases.

Of course, after contact with their relations stopped, it's a safe bet to say that someone in their family may have suspected foul play. But then again, life was seen differently at the time. It was a given that the world was not a safe place and that death could come by a number of ways, including illness, drowning, getting kicked by a horse, and even food poisoning. Some today believe those who were murdered still wonder the hills and are seen at the rivers panning for gold.

Death and calamity follows man wherever he goes, that's just a part of life. Some say that there are those who still call out for air from the bottom of a collapsed mine shaft. Some say that the old Indian who froze to death along the trail up near Alabama Hill in Glencoe can still be seen now and then over a hundred years later.

There are those who say the screams of those horses where that runaway wagon wrecked near the middle fork of the Mokelumne River can still heard. Others say they hear the weeping of the woman who still searches for her husband who died when crushed falling timber back in the day.

If ghosts are those souls who met a violent end as a result of being beaten to death in a bar brawl, by being shot to death by a single bullet fired by some dry-gulcher intent on stealing another man's hard earn wages, or by way of getting trampled by a cattle stampede, there are those who believe that ghosts simply cannot find peace. Thus, they haunt. Thus, they are restless.

Of course, if you are a person who believes in ghost, you may wonder if they'll ever find peace since they haven't by now.

Tom Correa

Mysterious Death of Annie Dorman 1897

Her death was reported in The Times of Philadelphia on October 6th, 1897. Her name was Annie Dorman. And the fact is, in a number of newspapers across the nation, her murder became national news.

Who was she? She was an American girl found dead with a whole lot of unanswered questions regarding her death. She was almost 18 years old, and was described as having a happy disposition. She lived with her older half-brother John, his wife Lizzie, and their children. She did so off and on since she was 13 years old. She worked for them as a maid and nanny taking care of their four children.

On the day of Annie's death, her sister-in-law Lizzie had supposedly left for Philadelphia. Annie's half-brother John was on the property, but was working outside at the barn located within a hundred yards of the house when she was killed. That's important to keep in mind. The barn where he was worked was a fairly short distance from the house where she was killed.

At noon, Annie was in the house watching the four children, and no one other than her and the children were there. A little after noon, it's believed Annie sent the three older children outside to play while she put the baby to sleep downstairs. After the baby was alseep, she tended to cleaning the house and doing chores.

At about 3:30 in the afternoon, her half-brother's hired hand who was working in the fields a few hundred yards away said that he heard four gunshots coming from the house. He said the first two shots seemed to be a minute or more apart, but the second two shots were fired in quick succession. And no, there is no mention as to why he didn't respond immediately after hearing the shots instead of apparently doing nothing and kept working.

To me, that sounds strange due to the fact that shots fired usually means something out of the ordinary is taking place. One would think, at the minimum, that hired hand's curiosity would have been alerted to make him drop what he was doing and go see why shots were coming from a place that they shouldn't be. But from what I gather, he didn't. As for why, who knows?

Strangely, almost an hour later at around 4:30 p.m., John was alerted to what took place in the house by one of his children. One of the older children went into the house and found their Aunt Annie. Then then located their father, John, who was in the barn working, and told him that she was dead.

John was supposedly completely unaware of the shots fired in his home, yet his farmhand in the fields further away heard the shot. Does that sound right to anyone?

In today's world, the world of 2019, someone wearing headphones while they are working, someone wearing hearing protection, someone working with a radio turned up so loud that they my drown out sounds coming from the outside of a building, that's not too hard to understand. But in 1897, there were none of that.

Besides, anyone reading this who has been raised or presently lives on a farm or ranch knows full well how quiet things are. On my property, my wife and I live in a house that is the equivilent to 2 football fields away from the main road at the entrance to our home, yet we can clearly hear a loud truck pass by or my horses in the front of our property. I can tell you when my neighbor a half mile away is target shooting. He can tell you when he hears me target shooting on my shooting range on the side of my garage. Gunshots are easy to hear in the silence of the country.

Supposedly John Dorman didn't hear anything until told what had taken place by on of his oldest children. It was then that he went to the house and found Annie in his bedroom shot dead. John called for the sheriff, who in turn called the coroner.

When the sheriff and coroner arrived at the Dorman farm, they found that Annie died of multiple gunshot wounds. One gunshot wound entered her by way of her jaw and another round entered her chest. It was later determined during the Coroner's Inquest that the round that struck her chest was the cause of death. It should be noted that two bullet holes were found in the ceiling. But also, there was a bullet hole in one of the walls. There was no evidence of what happened to the fourth round that was fired.

Philadelphia Inquirer, 10.10.1897

The coroner made notes stating that he found Annie’s clothing undisturbed. That is, except for her bodice, which was unbuttoned. A bodice is the close-fitting upper part of a dress that covered the chest and back above the waist. Edwardian era clothing hadn't change much from the Victorian era which called for modesty and covering. But, while that was the case, it was not usually for a woman to have such a fitted vest worn over a dress or blouse and unbuttoned in the September heat when she was alone.

While some may have attempted to make the fact that her bodice was unbuttoned sort of suspicious, the coroner's examination stated that she had not been sexually assaulted.

As the investigation into her death took shape, it appeared that there were more questions than actual answers. Because of that, some questioned if it was homicide or suicide. To support the notion that she killed herself, it was said that a revolver belonging to her family was found at Annie's side. As for the pistol, supposedly it sat loaded on a shelf in the bedroom for two years. Some say it couldn't have been the murder weapon since it was rusted and hadn't been fired for more than the two years that it was collecting dust on a shelf. 

The other thing that people started pointing at to support the notion that she claimed her own life was reports regarding her having been moody and falling into despair at times. So while she was seen as being "generally happy," people came forward to talk about her being "sensitive" and bouts of "gloomy periods."

The idea of her committing suicide had become more acceptable when it was found out that she had been having relationship problems with her boyfriend. This was coupled by the fact that it was known that she hated working for her half-brother’s family. In fact, it was reported many people witnessed her arguing with her sister-in-law over a number of issues. One report stated that their arguments actually turned physical at times. On one occasion, Lizzie choked Annie before chased her with a broom stick.

One newspaper theorized that it had to be suicide since "smaller details point to suicide." The small details that they saw as factors of suicide was the "fact that the dogs hadn’t barked, implying no stranger had entered the home. Or that the room was in nearly perfect order, and that no blood had been tracked through the bedroom or house."

Of course who can argue with such keen detective work as saying it must be suicide since a dog hadn't barked, or the scene of the crime was in perfect order with no blood tracked out of the room? Then again, I couldn't find anything that said if blood was even tracked at all, or if the dogs were there at all or with John at the barn. And as for a crime scene being in perfect order, it is believed that Annie's half-brother John Dorman cleaned up Annie's blood and burned her clothes before the evidence could really be investigated. Why did he do that?

As for the revolver, those who believed it was murder pointed out that the gun was an old model and extremely hard to cock. They also point out that no one knows if she was even familiar with firearms, or at least familiar enough to use on to kill herself. Another thing about the pistol, I couldn't find a mention as to whether the gun had been fired or if it was found with empty shells in its cylinder.

Then there's the idea that Annie could have used it to shoot herself twice after firing the other shots into the wall and ceiling. Remember, the farmhand heard four shots fired. If she shot herself, she had to have done so after firing the first two shots almost a minute apart. Then decide to shot herself in the jaw and then the chest? That sounds questionable to me.

So the basic question is pretty simple: After shooting herself in the jaw, would Annie have been able to shoot herself in the chest as well?

As for my trying to research how many times suicide victims shoot themselves twice. Yes, I did look it up. And believe it or not, as strange as it may sound, multiple gunshot suicides actually take place. From what I gather, there are cases where people have shot themselves more than once when trying to commit suicide. 

But, in most cases, it's "when a person commits suicide by inflicting multiple gunshots on oneself before becoming incapacitated." It's rare, but has been done. In fact, according to one source, a study of 138 gunshot suicides, 5 involved two shots to the head. Each of course had one thing in common, the first shot fired always missed the brain and they were not incapacitated enough to stop. In a suicide by firearm, immediate incapacitation is usually achieved by direct disruption to brain stem tissue.

While shooting yourself in the head is an almost sure fire a way of killing yourself, I was amazed to find out that someone by the name of Frank Stanford, he is described as having been a poet, used a pistol to put three bullets into his own heart in 1978. 

As for Annie Dorman, while there are those who really believed that she was able to shoot herself in the jaw and while in a massive amount of pain then shoot herself in the chest as well, all after firing shots into the ceiling and a wall.

At the Coroner's Inquest held on October 5, 1897, the coroner's jury didn't buy it. The coroner's jury gave a verdict that didn't surprise many. Their ruling simply stated that Annie had died of wounds "inflicted by some person or persons unknown."

Sadly though, even though murder had not been ruled out, the investigation into Annie’s death died due to a lack of evidence, funds, and manpower to pursue it. Because of that, the 1897 murder of Annie Dorman is still unsolved. And her murderer, he or she was never brought to justice.
Perhaps the closest that we will ever get to an explanation of Annie's death is the scenario proposed in an Philadelphia Inquirer editorial below, October 10th, 1897:

Roxanne Dorman was born in 1878. At the age of 18, she was found on the bedroom floor in a pool of blood after being killed on September 1st, 1897. She was found with two bullet holes and no answers. She was buried in Millsboro Cemetery, Millsboro, Sussex County, Delaware.

So why was the death of an unknown teenage girl big news even in the West in 1897, especially since she was killed in "the rural outskirts of Philadelphia"?

The answer to that question goes to the unanswered questions dealing with her death. Sensationalism being what it is, and nothing new even back in the day, there was the big question as to whether she was murdered or did she commit suicide?

There was speculation that she was not murdered and that it was a suicide. Yes, some there at the time actually considered it a possibility that a young girl was capable of committing suicide by shooting herself twice to get the job done. Frankly, I still don't believe it. And for those of you, who like me think the coroner's jury got it right, I agree. It's just too hard to believe that she shot up the room, shot herself in the jaw, and then shot herself in the chest all before anyone came a running to find out what was going on.

As for the unknown killer, or killers, I find it fishy that her half-brother John stated that he didn't hear gunshots coming from his house but his hired help did. And since he and his farmhand were supposedly the only two there since Lizzie supposedly left the farm earlier that day, and the children were outside when it happened, the list of suspects is a pretty short one.

Of course, though it was never officially solved, we can only hope that the person or persons who murdered Annie Dorman received their just rewards when it was their day to answer for such an act.

Tom Correa

A Cowboy In Dodge City, 1882 -- Part Two

by Andy Adams, 1903

At Camp Supply, Flood received a letter from Lovell, requesting him to come on into Dodge ahead of the cattle. So after the first night's camp above the Cimarron, Flood caught up a favorite horse, informed the outfit that he was going to quit us for a few days, and designated Quince Forrest as the segundo during his absence.

"You have a wide, open country from here into Dodge," said he, when ready to start, "and I'll make inquiry for you daily from men coming in, or from the buckboard which carries the mail to Supply. I'll try to meet you at Mulberry Creek, which is about ten miles south of Dodge. I'll make that town to-night, and you ought to make the Mulberry in two days. You will see the smoke of passing trains to the north of the Arkansaw, from the first divide south of Mulberry. When you reach that creek, in case I don't meet you, hold the herd there and three or four of you can come on into town. But I'm almost certain to meet you," he called back as he rode away.

"Priest," said Quince, when our foreman had gone, "I reckon you didn't handle your herd to suit the old man when he left us that time at Buffalo Gap. But I think he used rare judgment this time in selecting a segundo. The only thing that frets me is, I'm afraid he'll meet us before we reach the Mulberry, and that won't give me any chance to go in ahead like a sure enough foreman. Fact is I have business there; I deposited a few months' wages at the Long Branch gambling house last year when I was in Dodge, and failed to take a receipt. I just want to drop in and make inquiry if they gave me credit, and if the account is drawing interest. I think it's all right, for the man I deposited it with was a clever fellow and asked me to have a drink with him just as I was leaving. Still, I'd like to step in and see him again."

Early in the afternoon of the second day after our foreman left us, we sighted the smoke of passing trains, though they were at least fifteen miles distant, and long before we reached the Mulberry, a livery rig came down the trail to meet us. To Forrest's chagrin, Flood, all dressed up and with a white collar on, was the driver, while on a back seat sat Don Lovell and another cowman by the name of McNulta. Every rascal of us gave old man Don the glad hand as they drove around the herd, while he, liberal and delighted as a bridegroom, passed out the cigars by the handful. The cattle were looking fine, which put the old man in high spirits, and he inquired of each of us if our health was good and if Flood had fed us well. They loitered around the herd the rest of the evening, until we threw off the trail to graze and camp for the night, when Lovell declared his intention of staying all night with the outfit.

While we were catching horses during the evening, Lovell came up to me where I was saddling my night horse, and recognizing me gave me news of my brother Bob. "I had a letter yesterday from him," he said, "written from Red Fork, which is just north of the Cimarron River over on the Chisholm route. He reports everything going along nicely, and I'm expecting him to show up here within a week. His herd are all beef steers, and are contracted for delivery at the Crow Indian Agency. He's not driving as fast as Flood, but we've got to have our beef for that delivery in better condition, as they have a new agent there this year, and he may be one of these knowing fellows. Sorry you couldn't see your brother, but if you have any word to send him, I'll deliver it."

I thanked him for the interest he had taken in me, and assured him that I had no news for Robert; but took advantage of the opportunity to inquire if our middle brother, Zack Quirk, was on the trail with any of his herds. Lovell knew him, but felt positive he was not with any of his outfits.

We had an easy night with the cattle. Lovell insisted on standing a guard, so he took Rod Wheat's horse and stood the first watch, and after returning to the wagon, he and McNulta, to our great interest, argued the merits of the different trails until near midnight. McNulta had two herds coming in on the Chisholm trail, while Lovell had two herds on the Western and only one on the Chisholm.

The next morning Forrest, who was again in charge, received orders to cross the Arkansaw River shortly after noon, and then let half the outfit come into town. The old trail crossed the river about a mile above the present town of Dodge City, Kansas, so when we changed horses at noon, the first and second guards caught up their top horses, ransacked their war bags, and donned their best toggery. We crossed the river about one o'clock in order to give the boys a good holiday, the stage of water making the river easily fordable. McCann, after dinner was over, drove down on the south side for the benefit of a bridge which spanned the river opposite the town. 

It was the first bridge he had been able to take advantage of in over a thousand miles of travel, and to-day he spurned the cattle ford as though he had never crossed at one. Once safely over the river, and with the understanding that the herd would camp for the night about six miles north on Duck Creek, six of our men quit us and rode for the town in a long gallop. Before the rig left us in the morning, McNulta, who was thoroughly familiar with Dodge, and an older man than Lovell, in a friendly and fatherly spirit, seeing that many of us were youngsters, had given us an earnest talk and plenty of good advice.

"I've been in Dodge every summer since '77," said the old cowman, "and I can give you boys some points. Dodge is one town where the average bad man of the West not only finds his equal, but finds himself badly handicapped. The buffalo hunters and range men have protested against the iron rule of Dodge's peace officers, and nearly every protest has cost human life. 

Don't ever get the impression that you can ride your horses into a saloon, or shoot out the lights in Dodge; it may go somewhere else, but it don't go there. So I want to warn you to behave yourselves. You can wear your six-shooters into town, but you'd better leave them at the first place you stop, hotel, livery, or business house. 

And when you leave town, call for your pistols, but don't ride out shooting; omit that. Most cowboys think it's an infringement on their rights to give up shooting in town, and if it is, it stands, for your six-shooters are no match for Winchesters and buckshot; and Dodge's officers are as game a set of men as ever faced danger."

Nearly a generation has passed since McNulta, the Texan cattle drover, gave our outfit this advice one June morning on the Mulberry, and in setting down this record, I have only to scan the roster of the peace officials of Dodge City to admit its correctness. 

Among the names that graced the official roster, during the brief span of the trail days, were the brothers Ed, Jim, and "Bat" Masterson, Wyatt Earp, Jack Bridges, "Doc" Holliday, Charles Bassett, William Tillman, "Shotgun" Collins, Joshua Webb, Mayor A.B. Webster, and "Mysterious" Dave Mather. The puppets of no romance ever written can compare with these officers in fearlessness. And let it be understood, there were plenty to protest against their rule; almost daily during the range season some equally fearless individual defied them.

"Throw up your hands and surrender," said an officer to a Texas cowboy, who had spurred an excitable horse until it was rearing and plunging in the street, leveling meanwhile a double-barreled shotgun at the horseman.

"Not to you, you white-livered s---- of a b----," was the instant reply, accompanied by a shot.

The officer staggered back mortally wounded, but recovered himself, and the next instant the cowboy reeled from his saddle, a load of buckshot through his breast.

After the boys left us for town, the remainder of us, belonging to the third and fourth guard, grazed the cattle forward leisurely during the afternoon. Through cattle herds were in sight both up and down the river on either side, and on crossing the Mulberry the day before, we learned that several herds were holding out as far south as that stream, while McNulta had reported over forty herds as having already passed northward on the trail. 

Dodge was the meeting point for buyers from every quarter. Often herds would sell at Dodge whose destination for delivery was beyond the Yellowstone in Montana. Herds frequently changed owners when the buyer never saw the cattle. A yearling was a yearling and a two year old was a two year old, and the seller's word, that they were "as good or better than the string I sold you last year," was sufficient. 

Cattle were classified as northern, central, and southern animals, and, except in case of severe drouth in the preceding years, were pretty nearly uniform in size throughout each section. The prairie section of the State left its indelible imprint on the cattle bred in the open country, while the coast, as well as the piney woods and black-jack sections, did the same, thus making classification easy.

McCann overtook us early in the evening, and, being an obliging fellow, was induced by Forrest to stand the first guard with Honeyman so as to make up the proper number of watches, though with only two men on guard at a time, for it was hardly possible that any of the others would return before daybreak. There was much to be seen in Dodge, and as losing a night's sleep on duty was considered nothing, in hilarious recreation sleep would be entirely forgotten. 

McCann had not forgotten us, but had smuggled out a quart bottle to cut the alkali in our drinking water. But a quart amongst eight of us was not dangerous, so the night passed without incident, though we felt a growing impatience to get into town. As we expected, about sunrise the next morning our men off on holiday rode into camp, having never closed an eye during the entire night. 

They brought word from Flood that the herd would only graze over to Saw Log Creek that day, so as to let the remainder of us have a day and night in town. Lovell would only advance half a month's wages--twenty-five dollars--to the man. It was ample for any personal needs, though we had nearly three months' wages due, and no one protested, for the old man was generally right in his decisions. 

According to their report the boys had had a hog-killing time, old man Don having been out with them all night. It seems that McNulta stood in well with a class of practical jokers which included the officials of the town, and whenever there was anything on the tapis, he always got the word for himself and friends. During breakfast Fox Quarternight told this incident of the evening.

"Some professor, a professor in the occult sciences I think he called himself, had written to the mayor to know what kind of a point Dodge would be for a lecture. The lecture was to be free, but he also intimated that he had a card or two on the side up his sleeve, by which he expected to graft onto some of the coin of the realm from the wayfaring man as well as the citizen. The mayor turned the letter over to Bat Masterson, the city marshal, who answered it, and invited the professor to come on, assuring him that he was deeply interested in the occult sciences, personally, and would take pleasure in securing him a hall and a date, besides announcing his coming through the papers.

"Well, he was billed to deliver his lecture last night. Those old long horns, McNulta and Lovell, got us in with the crowd, and while they didn't know exactly what was coming, they assured us that we couldn't afford to miss it. Well, at the appointed hour in the evening, the hall was packed, not over half being able to find seats. It is safe to say there were over five hundred men present, as it was announced for 'men only.' Every gambler in town was there, with a fair sprinkling of cowmen and our tribe. 

At the appointed hour, Masterson, as chairman, rapped for order, and in a neat little speech announced the object of the meeting. Bat mentioned the lack of interest in the West in the higher arts and sciences, and bespoke our careful attention to the subject under consideration for the evening. He said he felt it hardly necessary to urge the importance of good order, but if any one had come out of idle curiosity or bent on mischief, as chairman of the meeting and a peace officer of the city, he would certainly brook no interruption. After a few other appropriate remarks, he introduced the speaker as Dr. J. Graves-Brown, the noted scientist.

"The professor was an oily-tongued fellow, and led off on the prelude to his lecture, while the audience was as quiet as mice and as grave as owls. After he had spoken about five minutes and was getting warmed up to his subject, he made an assertion which sounded a little fishy, and some one back in the audience blurted out, 'That's a damned lie.' 

The speaker halted in his discourse and looked at Masterson, who arose, and, drawing two six-shooters, looked the audience over as if trying to locate the offender. Laying the guns down on the table, he informed the meeting that another interruption would cost the offender his life, if he had to follow him to the Rio Grande or the British possessions. He then asked the professor, as there would be no further interruptions, to proceed with his lecture. 

The professor hesitated about going on, when Masterson assured him that it was evident that his audience, with the exception of one skulking coyote, was deeply interested in the subject, but that no one man could interfere with the freedom of speech in Dodge as long as it was a free country and he was city marshal. After this little talk, the speaker braced up and launched out again on his lecture. When he was once more under good headway, he had occasion to relate an exhibition which he had witnessed while studying his profession in India. The incident related was a trifle rank for any one to swallow raw, when the same party who had interrupted before sang out, 'That's another damn lie.'

"Masterson came to his feet like a flash, a gun in each hand, saying, 'Stand up, you measly skunk, so I can see you.' Half a dozen men rose in different parts of the house and cut loose at him, and as they did so the lights went out and the room filled with smoke. Masterson was blazing away with two guns, which so lighted up the rostrum that we could see the professor crouching under the table. 

Of course they were using blank cartridges, but the audience raised the long yell and poured out through the windows and doors, and the lecture was over. A couple of police came in later, so McNulta said, escorted the professor to his room in the hotel, and quietly advised him that Dodge was hardly capable of appreciating anything so advanced as a lecture on the occult sciences."

Breakfast over, Honeyman ran in the remuda, and we caught the best horses in our mounts, on which to pay our respects to Dodge. Forrest detailed Rod Wheat to wrangle the horses, for we intended to take Honeyman with us. As it was only about six miles over to the Saw Log, Quince advised that they graze along Duck Creek until after dinner, and then graze over to the former stream during the afternoon. 

Before leaving, we rode over and looked out the trail after it left Duck, for it was quite possible that we might return during the night; and we requested McCann to hang out the lantern, elevated on the end of the wagon tongue, as a beacon. After taking our bearings, we reined southward over the divide to Dodge.

"The very first thing I do," said Quince Forrest, as we rode leisurely along, "after I get a shave and hair-cut and buy what few tricks I need, is to hunt up that gambler in the Long Branch, and ask him to take a drink with me--I took the parting one on him. Then I'll simply set in and win back every dollar I lost there last year. 

There's something in this northern air that I breathe in this morning that tells me that this is my lucky day. You other kids had better let the games alone and save your money to buy red silk handkerchiefs and soda water and such harmless jimcracks." The fact that The Rebel was ten years his senior never entered his mind as he gave us this fatherly advice, though to be sure the majority of us were his juniors in years.

On reaching Dodge, we rode up to the Wright House, where Flood met us and directed our cavalcade across the railroad to a livery stable, the proprietor of which was a friend of Lovell's. We unsaddled and turned our horses into a large corral, and while we were in the office of the livery, surrendering our artillery, Flood came in and handed each of us twenty-five dollars in gold, warning us that when that was gone no more would be advanced. 

On receipt of the money, we scattered like partridges before a gunner. Within an hour or two, we began to return to the stable by ones and twos, and were stowing into our saddle pockets our purchases, which ran from needles and thread to .45 cartridges, every mother's son reflecting the art of the barber, while John Officer had his blond mustaches blackened, waxed, and curled like a French dancing master. 

"If some of you boys will hold him," said Moss Strayhorn, commenting on Officer's appearance, "I'd like to take a good smell of him, just to see if he took oil up there where the end of his neck's haired over." 

As Officer already had several drinks comfortably stowed away under his belt, and stood up strong six feet two, none of us volunteered.

After packing away our plunder, we sauntered around town, drinking moderately, and visiting the various saloons and gambling houses. I clung to my bunkie, The Rebel, during the rounds, for I had learned to like him, and had confidence he would lead me into no indiscretions. 

At the Long Branch, we found Quince Forrest and Wyatt Roundtree playing the faro bank, the former keeping cases. They never recognized us, but were answering a great many questions, asked by the dealer and lookout, regarding the possible volume of the cattle drive that year. 

Down at another gambling house, The Rebel met Ben Thompson, a faro dealer not on duty and an old cavalry comrade, and the two cronied around for over an hour like long lost brothers, pledging anew their friendship over several social glasses, in which I was always included. There was no telling how long this reunion would have lasted, but happily for my sake, Lovell--who had been asleep all the morning--started out to round us up for dinner with him at the Wright House, which was at that day a famous hostelry, patronized almost exclusively by the Texas cowmen and cattle buyers.

We made the rounds of the gambling houses, looking for our crowd. We ran across three of the boys piking at a monte game, who came with us reluctantly; then, guided by Lovell, we started for the Long Branch, where we felt certain we would find Forrest and Roundtree, if they had any money left. Forrest was broke, which made him ready to come, and Roundtree, though quite a winner, out of deference to our employer's wishes, cashed in and joined us. 

Old man Don could hardly do enough for us; and before we could reach the Wright House, had lined us up against three different bars; and while I had confidence in my navigable capacity, I found they were coming just a little too fast and free, seeing I had scarcely drunk anything in three months but branch water. As we lined up at the Wright House bar for the final before dinner, The Rebel, who was standing next to me, entered a waiver and took a cigar, which I understood to be a hint, and I did likewise.

We had a splendid dinner. Our outfit, with McNulta, occupied a ten-chair table, while on the opposite side of the room was another large table, occupied principally by drovers who were waiting for their herds to arrive. Among those at the latter table, whom I now remember, was "Uncle" Henry Stevens, Jesse Ellison, "Lum" Slaughter, John Blocker, Ike Pryor, "Dun" Houston, and last but not least, Colonel "Shanghai" Pierce. The latter was possibly the most widely known cowman between the Rio Grande and the British possessions. He stood six feet four in his stockings, was gaunt and raw-boned, and the possessor of a voice which, even in ordinary conversation, could be distinctly heard across the street.

"No, I'll not ship any more cattle to your town," said Pierce to a cattle solicitor during the dinner, his voice in righteous indignation resounding like a foghorn through the dining-room, "until you adjust your yardage charges. Listen! I can go right up into the heart of your city and get a room for myself, with a nice clean bed in it, plenty of soap, water, and towels, and I can occupy that room for twenty-four hours for two bits. And your stockyards, away out in the suburbs, want to charge me twenty cents a head and let my steer stand out in the weather."

After dinner, all the boys, with the exception of Priest and myself, returned to the gambling houses as though anxious to work overtime. Before leaving the hotel, Forrest effected the loan of ten from Roundtree, and the two returned to the Long Branch, while the others as eagerly sought out a monte game. But I was fascinated with the conversation of these old cowmen, and sat around for several hours listening to their yarns and cattle talk.

"I was selling a thousand beef steers one time to some Yankee army contractors," Pierce was narrating to a circle of listeners, "and I got the idea that they were not up to snuff in receiving cattle out on the prairie. I was holding a herd of about three thousand, and they had agreed to take a running cut, which showed that they had the receiving agent fixed. Well, my foreman and I were counting the cattle as they came between us. But the steers were wild, long-legged coasters, and came through between us like scared wolves. I had lost the count several times, but guessed at them and started over, the cattle still coming like a whirlwind; and when I thought about nine hundred had passed us, I cut them off and sang out, 'Here they come and there they go; just an even thousand, by gatlins! What do you make it, Bill?'

" 'Just an even thousand, Colonel,' replied my foreman. Of course the contractors were counting at the same time, and I suppose didn't like to admit they couldn't count a thousand cattle where anybody else could, and never asked for a recount, but accepted and paid for them. They had hired an outfit, and held the cattle outside that night, but the next day, when they cut them into car lots and shipped them, they were a hundred and eighteen short. They wanted to come back on me to make them good, but, shucks! I wasn't responsible if their Jim Crow outfit lost the cattle."

Along early in the evening, Flood advised us boys to return to the herd with him, but all the crowd wanted to stay in town and see the sights. Lovell interceded in our behalf, and promised to see that we left town in good time to be in camp before the herd was ready to move the next morning. On this assurance, Flood saddled up and started for the Saw Log, having ample time to make the ride before dark. By this time most of the boys had worn off the wire edge for gambling and were comparing notes. 

Three of them were broke, but Quince Forrest had turned the tables and was over a clean hundred winner for the day. Those who had no money fortunately had good credit with those of us who had, for there was yet much to be seen, and in Dodge in '82 it took money to see the elephant. There were several variety theatres, a number of dance halls, and other resorts which, like the wicked, flourish best under darkness. 

After supper, just about dusk, we went over to the stable, caught our horses, saddled them, and tied them up for the night. We fully expected to leave town by ten o'clock, for it was a good twelve mile ride to the Saw Log. In making the rounds of the variety theatres and dance halls, we hung together. Lovell excused himself early in the evening, and at parting we assured him that the outfit would leave for camp before midnight. We were enjoying ourselves immensely over at the Lone Star dance hall, when an incident occurred in which we entirely neglected the good advice of McNulta, and had the sensation of hearing lead whistle and cry around our ears before we got away from town.

Quince Forrest was spending his winnings as well as drinking freely, and at the end of a quadrille gave vent to his hilarity in an old-fashioned Comanche yell. The bouncer of the dance hall of course had his eye on our crowd, and at the end of a change, took Quince to task. He was a surly brute, and instead of couching his request in appropriate language, threatened to throw him out of the house. Forrest stood like one absent-minded and took the abuse, for physically he was no match for the bouncer, who was armed, moreover, and wore an officer's star. 

I was dancing in the same set with a red-headed, freckled-faced girl, who clutched my arm and wished to know if my friend was armed. I assured her that he was not, or we would have had notice of it before the bouncer's invective was ended. At the conclusion of the dance, Quince and The Rebel passed out, giving the rest of us the word to remain as though nothing was wrong. In the course of half an hour, Priest returned and asked us to take our leave one at a time without attracting any attention, and meet at the stable. I remained until the last, and noticed The Rebel and the bouncer taking a drink together at the bar,--the former apparently in a most amiable mood. We passed out together shortly afterward, and found the other boys mounted and awaiting our return, it being now about midnight. 

It took but a moment to secure our guns, and once in the saddle, we rode through the town in the direction of the herd. On the outskirts of the town, we halted. "I'm going back to that dance hall," said Forrest, "and have one round at least with that whore-herder. No man who walks this old earth can insult me, as he did, not if he has a hundred stars on him. If any of you don't want to go along, ride right on to camp, but I'd like to have you all go. And when I take his measure, it will be the signal to the rest of you to put out the lights. All that's going, come on." There were no dissenters to the programme. I saw at a glance that my bunkie was heart and soul in the play, and took my cue and kept my mouth shut. We circled round the town to a vacant lot within a block of the rear of the dance hall. Honeyman was left to hold the horses; then, taking off our belts and hanging them on the pommels of our saddles, we secreted our six-shooters inside the waistbands of our trousers. The hall was still crowded with the revelers when we entered, a few at a time, Forrest and Priest being the last to arrive. Forrest had changed hats with The Rebel, who always wore a black one, and as the bouncer circulated around, Quince stepped squarely in front of him. There was no waste of words, but a gun-barrel flashed in the lamplight, and the bouncer, struck with the six-shooter, fell like a beef. Before the bewildered spectators could raise a hand, five six-shooters were turned into the ceiling. The lights went out at the first fire, and amidst the rush of men and the screaming of women, we reached the outside, and within a minute were in our saddles. All would have gone well had we returned by the same route and avoided the town; but after crossing the railroad track, anger and pride having not been properly satisfied, we must ride through the town.

On entering the main street, leading north and opposite the bridge on the river, somebody of our party in the rear turned his gun loose into the air. The Rebel and I were riding in the lead, and at the clattering of hoofs and shooting behind us, our horses started on the run, the shooting by this time having become general. At the second street crossing, I noticed a rope of fire belching from a Winchester in the doorway of a store building. There was no doubt in my mind but we were the object of the manipulator of that carbine, and as we reached the next cross street, a man kneeling in the shadow of a building opened fire on us with a six-shooter. Priest reined in his horse, and not having wasted cartridges in the open-air shooting, returned the compliment until he emptied his gun. By this time every officer in the town was throwing lead after us, some of which cried a little too close for comfort. When there was no longer any shooting on our flanks, we turned into a cross street and soon left the lead behind us. At the outskirts of the town we slowed up our horses and took it leisurely for a mile or so, when Quince Forrest halted us and said, "I'm going to drop out here and see if any one follows us. I want to be alone, so that if any officers try to follow us up, I can have it out with them."

As there was no time to lose in parleying, and as he had a good horse, we rode away and left him. On reaching camp, we secured a few hours' sleep, but the next morning, to our surprise, Forrest failed to appear. We explained the situation to Flood, who said if he did not show up by noon, he would go back and look for him. We all felt positive that he would not dare to go back to town; and if he was lost, as soon as the sun arose he would be able to get his bearings. While we were nooning about seven miles north of the Saw Log, some one noticed a buggy coming up the trail. As it came nearer we saw that there were two other occupants of the rig besides the driver. When it drew up old Quince, still wearing The Rebel's hat, stepped out of the rig, dragged out his saddle from under the seat, and invited his companions to dinner. They both declined, when Forrest, taking out his purse, handed a twenty-dollar gold piece to the driver with an oath. He then asked the other man what he owed him, but the latter very haughtily declined any recompense, and the conveyance drove away.

"I suppose you fellows don't know what all this means," said Quince, as he filled a plate and sat down in the shade of the wagon. "Well, that horse of mine got a bullet plugged into him last night as we were leaving town, and before I could get him to Duck Creek, he died on me. I carried my saddle and blankets until daylight, when I hid in a draw and waited for something to turn up. I thought some of you would come back and look for me sometime, for I knew you wouldn't understand it, when all of a sudden here comes this livery rig along with that drummer--going out to Jetmore, I believe he said. I explained what I wanted, but he decided that his business was more important than mine, and refused me. I referred the matter to Judge Colt, and the judge decided that it was more important that I overtake this herd. I'd have made him take pay, too, only he acted so mean about it."

After dinner, fearing arrest, Forrest took a horse and rode on ahead to the Solomon River. We were a glum outfit that afternoon, but after a good night's rest were again as fresh as daisies. When McCann started to get breakfast, he hung his coat on the end of the wagon rod, while he went for a bucket of water. During his absence, John Officer was noticed slipping something into Barney's coat pocket, and after breakfast when our cook went to his coat for his tobacco, he unearthed a lady's cambric handkerchief, nicely embroidered, and a silver mounted garter. He looked at the articles a moment, and, grasping the situation at a glance, ran his eye over the outfit for the culprit. But there was not a word or a smile. He walked over and threw the articles into the fire, remarking, "Good whiskey and bad women will be the ruin of you varmints yet."

-- from The Log of a Cowboy: A Narrative of the Old Trail Days, 1903

Some of these reports have to be taken with a grain of salt, while others are a lot more believable. Of course, with the interest in the "Old West" at the start of the 1900s, it takes a lot of research at times to find out what's fact and what's fiction. 

People did have a tendency of exaggerating what took place. 

Tom Correa 

Why Re-Elect President Trump In 2020?

President Trump is the best thing to happen to our country since Ronald Reagan. He is addressing the problems with our economy that the Democrats said cannot be fixed, and is fixing them. Because of his efforts, our economy is booming.

Our unemployment is at its lowest in 60 years. More minorities are working. Senior citizens have been given cost of living raises that were denied them during the Obama years. Jobs and more importantly opportunities for Americans is on the rise. The Stock Market has reached its highest peak ever.

While Democrats are calling for imposing totalitarian regulations, increased government control of our lives, and Socialist ideals that are akin to full blown Communism, President Trump has brought prosperity back to America and it is translating into better lives for all. This newfound surge of feeling good about our nation and our economic future has had positive effects on all Americans. This is shown in Consumer Confidence which has never been higher.

President Trump’s inner-city Opportunity Zones are starting to take shape. He is addressing government task redundancy, agency overlap, and over-regulation. The result has been the elimination of tens of thousands of useless, economic stifling, business killing regulations. Regulations that were meant to make the government more powerful while taking away freedoms from the American people. And yes, because of President Trump, Americans are not longer being fined, and are no longer being threatened with the confiscation of their property, for not enrolling into ObamaCare.

Also, while addressing government problems, he has given Veterans more choice and expanded our options for better heath care through the Veterans Administration. While the Democrats like to say there were no scandals during the Obama years, they refuse to acknowledge the scandal of Veterans being allowed to die on waiting lists while President Obama did nothing to address that horrible situation. That is no longer the case under President Trump. Today, Veteran Health Care is better than ever.

As for his foreign policy, President Trump has gone to meet with the North Korean dictator and has reduced tensions to a lesser degree than what was taking place under Obama who did nothing to address the possibility of nuclear war. Image that we were threatened by a nuclear attack on Hawaii, but Obama said the biggest threat that we faced to our national security was Climate Change. That's the definition of being asinine!

Also, President Trump has taken on the unfair trade practices and military expansionist policies of China, and we are achieving goals which are more favorable to us. Not them, but us. The same goes for Mexico and Canada, a better trade deal has resulted in a more favorable situation for us. American corporations that left our country, or more accurately were chased out because of draconian government regulations, are returning to again manufacture products here with American workers.

As for the Middle East, in 1995, Congress passed the Jerusalem Embassy Act, which declared that "Jerusalem should be recognized as the capital of the State of Israel." That bill also stated that the American embassy should move to Jerusalem within five years. That was 1995, it took President Trump to fulfill that mandated law.

As for ISIS, while they were supported by the Obama administration, as was the case with Iran, today ISIS is gone and their dreams of an Islamic barbarian state is no more.

As for the security of our nation both overseas and at home, President Trump has stopped the dismantling of our military which was taking place during the Obama years. He has instead increased the pay of our troops, increased incentives for our men and women in uniform to make the military a career, and is in the process of giving our troops the new and improved equipment that they were denied under Obama.

As for strengthening our security on our Southern Border, President Trump has worked to replace the old ineffective security barriers with modern barriers, and has increased the amount of border being addressed with such needed security measures. This has been needed to curtail the flow of drugs and human trafficking, including child sex trafficking, across the border. Presidents Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, and Barack Obama did very little to address this growing problem. President Trump is addressing this with new barriers.

He is doing this while fighting Democrats who want open borders and appear to for the free flow of drugs, slave labor, and child sex trafficking.

President Trump has done all of this in spite of the obstructionist Democrats. Democrats have worked tirelessly to divide Americans on multiple issues including race, gender, class, and more. Democrats are working to ruin our economy through increased Climate Change hoax regulations, and they want to take more of the money that we earn to waste it on their Socialist agenda which includes giving benefits to people who are not even citizens. Democrats have even obstructed every attempt that President Trump has made to keep us safer.

President Trump has done this for our country. No one can argue the fact that President Trump is doing wonders for our country. He is a successful president in spite of the Democrat Party's attempts to stop all of the great things that are taking place under his guidance. This is why Democrats hate him and want to see him impeached for any reason, even if that reason is made up.

All of the wonderful things that he has done for us is why I will vote for him again in 2020. Yes, despite the hate and lies coming from the Democrat Party and their mainstream media. 

That's just the way I see things.

Tom Correa

The 2019 Garlic Festival Shooting -- We Do Not Live In A Protective Bubble

The gunman who opened fire at the Gilroy Garlic Festival on July 28th, 2019, killing 3 and injuring 12, was identified by law enforcement as 19-year old Santino William Legan of Gilroy. Legan was fatally shot by sheriff deputies on Sunday after he opened fire at the very crowded festival in Santa Clara County.

When I was living in the San Francisco Bay Area, I used to go to the Gilroy Garlic Festival. While this incident is obviously an extreme, I can tell you that violence at the Gilroy Garlic Festival is not a new security concern for them. As far back as the 1990s, and probably before that, that event saw problems with fights and even stabbings.

I was there in 1993 when one stabbing took place. Right after that happened, the event's security along with the police made a walk through and cleared the entire event of everyone there. They closed it down. The same day of the stabbing, I witnessed more than 3 fights. It became a very rowdy atmosphere where fights happen all the time. In the 6 or 8 times that I went there, there were always fights.

While I have not been back to the Garlic Festival since 2000, the problems that the event has stems from the availability of alcohol, people getting drunk and high from the use of marijuana, and the presence of rival gangs.

As for their security at the time, the event employed private security and had armed Gilroy city police and sheriff deputies on hand. Again, if memory serves me right, they used the private security for the entrances and exits, at key locations, while armed police officers and deputies were on horseback and walking patrols. These days, metal detectors are located at the entrances.

Security for any event such as a festival are usually put in place to prevent "expected" situations. While the worse case scenarios are looked at, available resources dictate that only so many precautions can be taken. What I mean by that is this, one attempts to predict the worse case scenario within reason using available resources. I'm willing to bet that no one, not the festival's security coordinator or the sheriff's department, anticipated a gunman circumventing the festival’s security by entering from a creek area and cutting through a fence.

For me, I believe the motives of such an insane individual attempting to do such a horrible act actually mean almost nothing because I know that such individuals cannot be stopped before they carry out their plan. Unless someone knowledgeable of the perpetrator's plan comes forward and actually informs on the person before carrying out the act, the police are always a reactive security element.

While the police concern themselves with motive to see if others are involved, let's make no mistake about this, this perpetrator knew the security in place and planned his attack by circumventing security measures. Also, it is important to note that the availability of armed sheriff deputies and city police, law enforcement, did not stop the perpetrator from carrying out his plan. Since the perpetrator had planned his attack with his targets in mind long before this last weekend, armed police officers did not deter the perpetrator from carrying out his plan.

While we know that the gunman who murdered those innocent people went through a lot of trouble to get around security measures in place there, we know that increased security from years past and the presence of armed officers didn't stop his intent to commit murder. But there is something else that we should note. Even if he did not cut his way into the event through a fence, the perpetrator could have gotten into the event circumventing security through a number of other ways.

For example, if he were with any of the many many merchants and vendors there, including part of the food vendors, he could have been allowed in and staged a weapon or had a weapon on him at any time. He could have been part of entertainment. He even could have been part of the security detail itself. Point is that we have no idea who is capable of doing such an insane act. And sadly, it could be anyone.

Because we do not live our lives in a protective bubble, along with our security measures, we have to trust that not everyone out there is insane and out to kill us.

Tom Correa

What Made Me A Republican

I was recently asked what changed my political opinion once and for all? 

This is something that I've thought about a lot since I was brought up in a very Democrat family. In fact, I was brought up in a very Conservative Catholic household. At one point, our home consisted of me and my three brothers and one sister, my parents, both maternal grandparents, and my great-grandfather who couldn’t speak English. Yes, ten of us. 

My maternal great-grandfather left the oppression of the Portuguese government in the Azores to go to Hawaii as an Indentured Servant in 1908. During his life, he worked in the sugarcane fields, the pineapple fields, and as a janitor at a High School. He tried to pass the citizenship test to become an American on three different occasions but couldn’t speak enough English to pass it. As a boy of 9, I remember him telling me, in Portuguese, to be a proud American. He used to say, "Be proud that you are an American. You are free!" 

My family was Blue Collar, Conservative, traditional Catholics, and Democrats. Hawaii was a Democrat state. I found out later that had a lot to do with FDR and World War II. Of course, back in those days, Democrats were Conservative also. If the truth be told, President Kennedy was a Conservative. He certainly wasn't a Liberal. The Democrat Party was very Conservative back in those days — especially by today’s standards. Modern Liberalism had not infected the whole of the Democrat Party yet. 

As for my becoming a Republican and shunning the Left and Liberalism? While I was raised a Conservative with traditional family values in a Catholic family, my decision to become a registered Republican came while I was in the Marine Corps.

If memory serves me right, myself and three other Marines volunteered to go to San Diego State University to attend a few hour long career day event. That took place in early 1976. I was an Instructor and my Gunnery Sergeant told me that it would be good for me to do since I was looking at the Marine Corps as a career. As is still probably the care, anything positive on one's record helps out during promotion time. 

I was a 20 year old Marine Corporal, and after we arrived, I was shocked by how we were treated when we arrived. We go out of our van and were met by college students who threw food at us, called us all sorts of vile names such as calling us “baby killers” and compared us to Nazis. A few students actually tired to get close enough to attempt to spit on us. 

I didn't know the other Marines since I had just met than that morning. If I remember right, we had a Lance Corporal who was our driver from Motor-T, I was the only Corporal, there were two Sergeants, and we had a Staff Sergeant in charge. When we arrived, we told the Lance Corporal to stay with the van. We tried grabbing up a banner and handouts, but the students sort of swarmed around us and kept throwing stuff and taunting us.

At one point, the Staff Sergeant in charge told us to get back in our van. He didn't want things to get completely out of hand but he need to check in the people who organized the event. With that, he told us to sit tight and he left. When he got back, his uniform was a mess. He simply got in the van and told the driver to get us out of there.  

On the way back to Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton, all of us were pretty angry. I found out later that the students who met us with such disdain and disrespect were the same Leftist students types who protested our troops returning from Vietnam; the same types of asinine individuals who burned our flag while waving the flags of our enemies; the same as those who were praising Communism of Mao and Stalin; the same who wanted a Communist America; the very people who voted for McGovern in 1972 and were campaigning for Jimmy Carter at the time. They were Democrats. 

It was then that I decided never ever to vote for Democrats.

While my father was still a true-blue Democrat until Bill Clinton was caught lying about committing perjury regarding having sex in the Oval Office, I refused to vote Democrat for years before that.

Republicans are for families, child welfare, for life and not killing babies both before or at birth, manufacturing, building trades, Christians no matter if Catholic or Protestant, supporting our troops serving and helping our returning Veterans. Everything that Democrats are against.

I find it ironic that Democrats accuse Republicans of everything that they do or have done in history. They were responsible for the Trail of Tears, the Civil War, and the have a slave-owner mentality. They created the Ku Klux Klan, Jim Crow laws, Segregation, worked to stop multiple Civil Rights legislation efforts, they even fought against the Civil Rights Act as recently as 1964. And yes, they have a history of being against Women's Rights.

The irony in recent years is that Democrat President Obama refused to pay his women staffers what he was paying the men in that administration doing the same job. Recently, Democrats running for the presidency were caught doing similar things.

Over the years, I've found that the Republican Party is all about respect for our elders, our traditions, our history, our flag, and preserving our values. As a Republican, I can say that we are for equal opportunity, free association, capitalism, commerce, and the benefits of hard work, low taxes, and prosperity.

We like to keep more of our hard earned money in our pockets. And though that's a fact, Republicans give more to people in need than Democrats do. Why is that you ask? It's because Republicans believe people take care of people. In contrast, Democrats don't give to charities because they believe it's the government's job to do that. If that seems like a cop-out, I think so too.

In recent years, Democrats created another militant arm of their party. They did in 1865 with the Ku Klux Klan, years later they formed Occupy Wall St, and since 2016 they created ANTIFA to riot and destroy and attack others in the streets. In contrast, Republicans believe in stability, peace, and supporting our law enforcement professionals.

While Democrats are fighting to keep our Southern border with Mexico open and unsecured, drugs and human traffickers are bringing people across the border as never before. Republicans are for freedom and opportunity, but also the rule of law which regulates those coming into our nation. No one is against a family fleeing somewhere else and coming here. All Republicans are saying is to do it legally. Not as criminals, but with the proper papers.

Whether it's sex trafficking or human bondage which is nothing more than modern-day slavery, Democrats should be concern but they are not. And frankly, Americans should demand to know what not?

Republicans respect an individual's right to pick the religion of their choice or simple their being spiritual. We respect a person's right of association as long as it promotes peace. Democrats can't say the same. Traditionally, Republicans have been the champions of limiting government to rein in abuse and even the possibility of government oppression while promoting the general welfare. We have be for a strong military deterrence, for civil rights, respect for others, and a color blind society. Democrats want open borders, a return of segregation, a divided nation, racism, and hostility for Whites.

Unlike Republicans, Democrats do not believe in assimilation, pride in being an American, inclusion, respect for the law, and a nation of united on common values. Republican ideas of free expression, equality under law, due process, the presumption of innocence, good ethics, conscience, and a person's right to self-preservation is at odds with what Democrats believe in.

So really, what made me a Republican?

Being self-sufficient, and wanting a normal family where my kids would learn to respect our founding fathers, our flag, our Constitution, our history and struggles; my wanting to stay safe while keeping the freaks and bad doers away; my wanting to preserve our Rights, and not be prejudiced from having the same opportunities of fulfilling my dreams as those with lighter or darker skin; my wanting to be associated with other proud Americans made me a Republican.

After all, I couldn't be a Democrat after finding out at the age of 20 that the Democrat Party did not represent me, my family, Blue Collar workers, Catholics, Veterans, our flag, what's right about America, and had turned into a bunch of Communists. Yes, even back then.

For the person who wrote to ask, "What would it take for you to no longer support the Republican Party?” That’s an easy question to answer. I would walk away from the Republican Party if it were to become like the Democrat Party.

Conservatives need to understand that we have to fight as ruthlessly as Democrats if we want to prevent them from tearing down America to create a Communist nation in its place.

If Republicans embrace Socialism, Communism, want to repeal parts or all of the Bill of Rights, actually believes that a person has absolutely no right to protect themselves or their family with a firearm? If there is ever a Republican Party that supports the idea that it’s okay to rule over others with draconian regulations, supports the concept of us being slaves to the government, supports the elimination of private property, and supports the killing of babies yet will fight to save a murderer on death row, then that’s when the Republican Party becomes like the Democrat Party. And yes, that's when it will no longer get my support. But until that happening, I will remain a Republican.

As for where we'll be in the next 30 years? 

I remember talking about this with friends back in the mid-1970s. We wondered what cars and clothes would look like, and what sort of new "stuff" there would be. Back in those days, when I was overseas in the military, a few of the guys used cassette tape recorders to record their letters home. They would record themselves, put the cassette tape into an envelope and then sent them home by airmail — what is called “smail mail” today. That was big technology for the time.

Never did we image computers, the internet, being able to chat with people in group discussions, phones that you carry around in your pocket, watching films and video online, and more.

As for race relations, by the late 1970s, I thought it was getting better. For many years, a lot of people thought we were all getting along pretty well. The Obama administration changed all of that by calling everyone a "racist." Obama returned the nation to the dark days of segregation. His legacy today is that some blacks are actually calling for segregation. 

It's a safe bet that Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. must be rolling over in his grave since he fought so hard to end such horrible practices.

As for the future, I hope the Democrats come to their sanity and stop the true racism which they are inciting, stop the political hate which they are encouraging, stop ANTIFA which they created, stop putting others first before Americans. While I really don't think we'll become the Socialist Third World country that the Democrats are trying so hard to turn us into, I hope I'm right.

Tom Correa

Why Should Medical Coverage Be Completely Free?

I was recently asked the question, "What types of compromises, as a Conservative, would you need to see in order to consider a Single Payer health system?" Single-payer healthcare is defined as “universal healthcare financed by taxes that covers the costs of essential healthcare for all residents, with costs covered by a single public system.”

I translate that to mean that taxpayers supply others with free medial coverage.

That means that more taxes will be taken from working Americans of all economic levels to pay for “everyone” — even those who can afford to get their own healthcare. This doesn’t sound fair to working Americans and retired Americans on a fixed income who are already paying more in taxes and are having less and less to live on because of the government wanting to take more and more of what they have.

As for those who need coverage but can only afford expensive all inclusive healthcare plans, here’s my solution based on my own experience when I was in that very situation.

Back in 1995, I needed medical coverage. Being a Veteran, I went to the VA to see if I qualified for coverage and how much it would cost me. The first thing that the VA did was give me a “Means Test” to see what my financial situation was at the time. I was told that such a cost to me would help to defray the expenses and lift the burden of cost on the taxpayer to pay for the VA healthcare program.

While I don't know if the VA still does this today, at the time if I made too much money -- then I wouldn’t have qualified for coverage. That caveat stopped well-off individuals from taking advantage of the system. As for me, though I thought I was making a lot of money while I was working in the Inspection Industry at the time, I did in fact make an amount that met the criteria. For my situation, it was determined that my visits would cost $60 (per visit). Prescriptions cost me a minimal fee.

Point is, since there was zero monthly out of pocket expense, and would only cost me $60 per visit — which I figured would only take place 3 to 4 times a year for follow-up appointments — I jumped at it.

So why can’t Americans who cannot find medical insurance apply for Medicare, but go through the same process of a “Means Test” to see how much, how little, they will have to pay to get basic coverage as I did with the VA back in 1995? No simply give it to them free, but at a minimal cost?

Fact is $60 in 1995 is equivalent in purchasing power to about $100.84 in 2019. If a person today only had to pay $100 per visit and only went to the doctor’s six times a year, that’s affordable basic coverage for those who can't get more expensive care. Couple that with an inexpensive supplemental plan to cover the more expensive treatments, and people may be able to afford it.

Also, back in the late 1990s, Kaiser Healthcare System raised it's Emergency Room visit costs from $5 to $50 a visit. That raise reduced the frivolous visits and those not wanting to schedule an appointment and get around more expensive co-pays. Soon, Kaiser Hospital ERs were a lot less crowded with people their simply trying to fill prescriptions. The lesson was noticed by all, make it almost free and people will take advantage of the situation.

Also why can’t people afford to pay for such a “basic coverage” government program if we made that sort of minimal coverage available to people who cannot yet afford to get into other private healthcare coverage programs? Obamacare actually cost more than what I'm suggesting because there is no monthly premiums in my suggestion.

Also, why does it always have to be a case of taxpayers putting out more of their wages to supply something to other completely free — especially when those who have very little coming in can afford to pay a minimal fee to a government program? It doesn't have to be that way.

Why should it be completely free for people who can afford minimal coverage? It shouldn’t be. And where did people get this absurd and asinine notion that "Healthcare is a Right"? It isn't a "right." That's especially true since it's not the government's responsibility to see that you're looked after like the slave masters looked after their slaves. Besides, our healthcare is up to each of us to take care of for ourselves.

And if you're wondering, no, I don’t think healthcare coverage should be completely free for anyone with the exception of Veterans with service-connected disabilities, since they got their disabilities while serving us, and in the case of Seniors on Social Security since they paid into the Social Security system all of their lives.

Before retiring, I hated the fact that I was working long hours and the government took almost half of my paychecks. I hated that all of my overtime seemed to be taken from me by the government. I also hated knowing there were people out there taking advantage of government programs. Their taking advantage of such "free" programs effected how much more money the government wanted to take from my paychecks!

Besides, there is no such thing as "free" since someone has to pay for it. And while some will say that I should have took whatever I could get from the government since I paid such high taxes, I liked knowing that paid what I could to help defray the cost of my medical coverage. Knowing that nothing's completely free, I liked that. After all, I am the taxpayer who funds these programs.

Tom Correa