Observations and Thoughts

This week end I did the first live interview with Jimmy Portillo on Old West El Paso Radio.  I had to edit the show a bit, and as I was listening to the recording, a few thoughts came to mind.  When studying history, be it gunfight history, economic history, or social history, one has to look at the entire picture.  One man sneezes and falls on his backside.  Another man laughs at the sight of a man falling on his backside, thus not seeing another man drawing a weapon. The man with the weapon fires and kills yet another man.  The sneeze its self was not significant, yet the consequences were immense for another.
One thing I have discovered in researching El Paso's gunfights over the years, one has to research EVERYTHING.  Knowing who shot whom is one thing, but learning why they shot each other is a complicated matter.  For years I wondered why Dallas Stoudenmire had such animosity against Alderman Warner Phillips.  Until that is I ran across a small ad in the Texas Lone Star.  This ad announced the opening of a livery stable by Frank Manning and Warner Phillips.  On further reading, one finds that there were a number of social trips in which the Manning and Phillips families made together.  Armed with this information, one can now understand why Dallas had such a burr under his saddle about Phillips.
So, my advice for budding historians; spread your searches across the board.  Something that might seem insignificant on its own, may have a major impact on events in other circles.
Just my thoughts for the week end.
So until next time, Take care, God bless, and keep your powder dry.

Old El Paso vs New El Paso

Just the other day, a friend asked me to answer a few questions for a young student concerning El Paso and the period surrounding the arrival of the rail roads.  The difficulty of this written interview was not so much writing the history, but in boiling it down into small bite sized morsels.  Some of the questions asked though really set me off on to comparisons to present day El Paso and 19^th century El Paso. 

A couple of questions asked about trade and commerce here in El Paso.  I did a quick piece about how it was basically not all that different from today.  The larger stores had set prices and required cash on hand to make purchases.  Some of the smaller stores and street vendors expected one to haggle for a price.  There were no credit cards per se, but if you were settled in town, one might be able to arrange a charge account at one of the larger stores.

As I was writing this, I was trying to find modern contrasts and comparisons.  Now don’t take me wrong.  I am not intending to be insulting or degrading, but south El Paso Street is a prime example of how commerce may have been carried out in 19^th century El Paso.  There are stores hawking all sorts of goods from clothing to hardware.  Mixed in there along the way are a few bakeries and green grocers.  The main difference I see between the 21^st and 19^th century signs is that the modern ones have less spelling errors.  It does not take much imagination to walk along the streets, say south of Overland, and get a feel of what the railroad days much have felt like.  The hustle and bustle of activity,  Mama with children in tow doing her shopping.  I’m sorry, but that is what gives El Paso her “flavor” as far as I am concerned.

I know that some of the folks behind the Downtown Revitalization Plan would prefer we make that all go away.  Clear the sidewalks of the sidewalk sales, and vendors.  Remove the obnoxious, garish signage.  Replace it all with neat and prime high end chain stores.  Fine and dandy iffn you want to look like any other city in the southwest.  Those shops and stores downtown are what made El Paso. They are what have kept the downtown going since the creation of the mall and internet shopping.  They are also one of the last tangible vestiges of a day long gone, a tie to our past.  I know one real bone of contention is the flea market on Oregon and Pisano Drive.  True it is dirty, and the local cops really should enforce the litter and trash ordinances.  Want to watch the mayor and city council turn green in the gills? Point out that that flea market has been there pretty much since 1888.  Yes I said: 1888.  In looking over the Sanborn fire maps of that year, at the northern end of that same block are structures marked by dotted lines.  The annotation states that they are Mexican tents selling hardware, vegetables and dry good.  This translates into flea market to me.

Well enough rambling for now.  Until next time, take care, God bless, and keep your powder dry!

Early day gunfights, and what we DON'T know about them.

 Aultman Collection El Paso Public Library

This month we see the anniversary of one or two of the early day encounters here in El Paso. One of the first took place in 1858.  It involved Dr Frank Giddings, and a gambler by the name of Tom Smith.   It was a brief encounter, and we only really have one primary account of the story, that being Nancy Hamilton's in her biography of Ben Dowell.  We have it from W.W. Mills that he attempted to prevent two men from killing each other with pistols, when he was informed that it was considered bad manners to interfere thata way.  There is the story told of a gentleman taking pot shots at a politician, and missing.  Either in outrage at the poor marksmanship, or that folks actually liked the politician, the guilty gentleman was chased behind the Central Hotel, where he was gunned down.  We also have the story of three men sentenced to death in 1879.  Instead of hanging, they were sentenced to death by firing squad.  Acting as Marshal, Ben Dowell commanded the squad that carried out the executions, right there on El Paso street.  Again, We have very little to  work on with these stories, even fewer details.  With the arrival of the railroads in 1881, three newspapers began operations.  Through them we have a fairly reasonable idea of the events during and after various encounters here in El Paso, plus the surrounding area.  It would be an very nice addition to El Paso's Old West history iffn some up start "want to be" began researching the archives and records, putting a better picture togather concerning those early day gunfights.  Just an idea.


El Paso Inc, interviewed Bernie Sargent this week in his capacity as Chairman of the El Paso County Historical Commission.  Darn good piece.  I do disagree with some of the over all concepts the Mayor's Lyceum, and the Down Town Revitalization crew have put forth, but they are at least looking the the right general direction.

Raid Day March 9th, 1916

It was on this date in 1916 that a force under Francisco “Pancho” Villa crossed the border and raided the village of Columbus, NM.  It was the first time a quasi foreign military force had invaded and attacked U.S. soil since the War of 1812.

The force of about 500 men crossed the border at 2:00AM.  The attack started at around 4:30.  One column raided the commercial district of Columbus, pillaging and burning the stores and hotels.  Another column looped south and attacked the stables of the 13^th Cavalry.  The main column struck at the center of Camp Furlong.  The 13^th Cavalry was not caught completely asleep.  LT Lucas, commander of the Machine Gun Troop heard the riders approaching, and ghosted across the highway amongst them.  When the sentry’s challenge was answered with gunfire, LT Lucas dashed to the guard tent to retrieve one of the troop’s Benet-Mercie machineguns. 

The men of the 13^th Cavalry were quick to organize a defense.  LT Lucas with his Troop and parts of others established a base of fire from the railroad grading.  Lt Castleman of K Troop led his men through several rushes until he set of a firing line perpendicular to the railroad tracks.  The converging fire was telling on the Villistas.  As the fires in town grew, the Villistas were back lit increasing the devastation of the American shooting.

As morning dawned, the Villistas began withdrawing back to Mexico.  Major Frank Tompkins led a pursuit of the Villistas, penetrating some 25 miles into Mexico. When he found his horses exhausted, and ammunition running low, Tompkins returned to Camp Furlong.

In all eight troopers of the 13^th Cavalry, and nine civilians were killed during the raid.  Between the conflict in town, and the retreat, the Villistas suffered 250-300 casualties.

As now, we remember the media cried of this event.  Senators shouted for the Army to march to Mexico City.  Secretary of War Baker promised to capture Villa and punish him.  The actual orders issued to BG John J. Pershing were to pursue Pancho Villa, capturing or killing him, or breaking up his forces until he was no longer a threat to the United States.  Within the first four months of the campaign, the punitive Expedition had scattered and broken up Villa’s remaining forces.  Villa himself was in hiding, recovery from a bullet wound he received at Guerro.  Villa was not able to regroup and gain forces until Caranza’s Constitutionist Troops prevented American forces from actively patrolling and pursuing Villistas.

The Punitive Expedition and Pershing returned to U.S. soil in February 1917.  They had prevented Villa from taking to the field in large numbers, and scattered his troops.  The entire event would be overshadowed by the U.S.  entering into the Great war in Europe.

There aren’t many that still remember the actual raid.  The descendants on both sides still carry strong emotions over the issue.  I first started going to Columbus in 1991.  The folks had to keep two of the volunteers separated at the museum; both were more than willing to resume the fight.  I also met one amazing individual, Harry Gunderson.  Harry had been a bugler with the New Mexico National Guard, stationed at Camp Cody, just outside Deming. He was one of the first troops arriving after the raid.  He knew three of the men killed during the raid.  Until 1999, Harry would travel from his home in Silver City, and play Taps for his fallen comrades. I had the honor of standing in formation while he played taps on more than one occasion.

The Pancho villa State park and several other organizations have set up a festival/ celebration covering the raid, with horseman riding up from Chihuahua, and crossing the border.  The event is generally scheduled for the nearest week end to the 9^th.  For those old schoolers like Harry and I, there is only ONE raid day,  March 9^th.

I hadn't gotten anything really started for Gunfight Central.  Between work, school and real life, I just haven't had the time.  This February was sort of rough for me for some reason.  The 16th & 24th were always sort of special to me, and for 20 years I have celebrated St Patrick's Day in my own manner.  My post today, is a piece I wrote back on the 16th of February.  I dunno what motivated me to write it, nor to actually start and finish in one sitting.  This is pretty much as it was written, no revising or monkeying with lines.  This was one of those rare ones where the words flowed from mind to pen, and didn't stop or require thought.  Iffn you all can ride this one out, next week I'll be back to the old west and the fun stuff.

The National Anthem and I

The wife seems to find it amusing that I do not like being in public when the national anthem is being played. Something about the gruff old fart bawling like a baby, tears streaming down the cheeks, and choking on his words as he tries to sing it.  Yeah, I admit it very begrudgingly, but it is the truth.  It all began about this date some 20 years ago.

Out in the middle of the Saudi Arabian desert in early 1991, our first inkling of the beginning of “Operation Desert Storm” was the flight of B-52s that flew overhead, and the distant thumps of bombs going off a hour or so later.  As the first days progressed nothing really changed.  We watched the camels roam around doing whatever camels do.  In the Morning a flight of B-52’s would approach from their airfields, make a sharp right turn and head into Iraq. We’d hear/feel the thumps of the bombs awhile later, and the B-52s would return, making the sharp left to return home.  From what we were hearing on the Troop radio net, and the short wave, about anytime an Iraqi soldier stuck his head out of a hole, the air force would drive a bomb in the hole after him.  After a bit, I truly began to feel sorry for the poor bastards.

Long about the night of the 19^th or 20^th of February, the air force was carrying out a strike against targets some 15 or 20 miles across the border form our position.  One could hear the rip of the A-10s as they fired the mingun, and feel the concussions as nasty toys fell from the sky.  Wearing night vision goggles, one could see Iraqi tracers arcing towards our aircraft, then the contrails of missiles launched by the A-10s and F-16’s.  Watching this, all I could think of was the 3^rd stanza of the Star Spangled Banner: And the rockets read glare,”

I must have been thinking aloud.  From beside me I heard: “the bombs bursting in air…”.  Then behind me: “Gave proof through the night..”  and then us all: “ that our flag was still there..”  We finished the rest the anthem.  Most have been a hell of a sight.  There myself and PV2 JD Jenkins sitting on the front slope.  PFC Ted Limbach was lounging in his driver’s hole, with SSG Marvin Wilson and SGT Clarence Williams up in the turret.   Marvin and I were the “old men”.  Marvin was a Cheyenne Dog Soldier, and Vietnam veteran.  I had just turned 30, and was wondering iffn I would see 31.  Ted and J were only 18.  We were a hell of a crew.

I flash back to that night when I hear the Star Spangled Banner.  It was a time for extreme emotions for me. A time for praying like hell there wouldn’t be any shooting. A time for praying like hell we’d be given the chance to kick ass, take names, and forget how to write. *  A time of being scared shitless that’s we’d get hurt or killed.  A time of being scared shitless we wouldn’t get the chance to do what we had trained to do. It was one hell of an emotional roller coaster ride until the ground war actually began.

It was a huge sigh of relief as we crossed over into Iraq, weapons loaded, safeties off, ( and discovering after a test fire, that camels can out run Bradly’s and M-1s.) The worrying and wondering about what was gonna happen were gone.  We had a job to do, and we were finally doing it. Scared? Hell yes!  Worried? Hell no!  See much action? Ironically, the only real action we saw was after the Cease Fire was announced.  I guess no one had told the Iraqis that there was a cease fire.  I saw some real heroes there, on both sides.  Am I one of them? Hell no, I just did my job, and got my people home in one piece.

So yeah, I bawl like a baby when the national anthem is played.  After 20 years, I can get through the first part mostly.  I still lose it at the beginning of the 3^rd stanza.  The wife may find it amusing.  I don’t.

Guys, where ever you all got to, I'm still thinking of you.