[From Deadwood, South Dakota]
NFC Receivers Quiz (since 1960): 1) What New Orleans
receiver led the NFC in receptions in 1969? 2) What Chicago
receiver led the NFC in receptions in 1970? [This is hard, I’ll
grant you.] 3) Name the three Philadelphia receivers to lead the
league from 1972-74. 4) Who are the only two New York Giants
to lead the league? Answers below.
Deadwood
When I last reported in, I was hitting the road on Monday as
snow was beginning to accumulate in Spearfish, S.D. My first
stop was Kmart, in search of a simple Halloween mask. Nothing
doing. I also asked the clerk if the new John Legend CD had
come in and she said they only got two copies and they were
immediately sold. So I learned this isn’t John Legend territory,
though frankly I learned this long ago.
I then went to Black Hills State University, also in Spearfish, to
get my usual assortment of t-shirts. Not many people back
where I live have one. And then it was off on the Spearfish
Canyon road (14A), one of the truly great stretches in America.
Only one problem. It was slick as hell in spots and the place I
wanted to stop for lunch was closed for renovation.
But I finally arrived in Deadwood and after a frustrating time on
the Internet (it is very slow and I learned at a bar later that
everyone pirates off the hotel’s DSL), I hit my favorite spot here
(remember, this is my 3rd trip in five years to the region), Saloon
No. 10.
Now this isn’t the real Saloon No. 10 that you’ll read of below,
but it’s the most authentic place in town, a ton of fun, has great
food, and you can play blackjack in a casual manner.
So Monday night I plopped myself at the bar, asked the bartender
Shane what was good, and was served Blue Moon. Let’s just say
I liked Blue Moon and leave it at that, shall we? I will only add
that Shane and I had some great conversations, such as I learned
definitively there are no bear in the Black Hills, but, yes, there
are a fair number of mountain lions. He hikes all over the place
and has never seen one, personally, but he’s seen the scat, as us
afficionados say.
After my share of Blue Moon, I wanted to go back to my hotel to
play just a few hands of blackjack; but they didn’t have the tables
open, I stupidly walked across the street, instead of going back to
Saloon No. 10, and ended up playing ‘three-card poker’ at this
joint; a game I never have played in a casino. It’s incredibly
stupid and a sucker’s bet if there ever was one. Bottom line, I
lost $100 and was ticked off when learning Ace filled a low
straight (a three-card straight) and I had ‘Ace, King, Jack.’
Well, Tuesday, I wised up, playing blackjack at Saloon No. 10
and won $250. Plus the Halloween Party was going on and that
was good people watching. I’m about to head out, Wednesday
night, for a final session.
Tuesday I also toured a townhouse back in Spearfish with realtor
Jeff G., who was nice enough to show me around. No secret, I
love Spearfish. It not only seems like a nice community with
some great resources, like a unique park built around an historic
fish hatchery and Black Hills State, but it also has easy access
to the beauty of the Black Hills and Devil’s Tower areas. Will
your editor ever buy something there, like in the next two or
three years? Stay tuned.
Today I went to Mount Rushmore for my third visit there. It
never ceases to inspire me, though I admit I’m understanding
more and more why the Indians hate the place. Yes, you might
say we desecrated their land. Funny thing, though; a Native
American is now the superintendent, Gerard Baker.
I’ve written extensively on Rushmore before, but just a few facts.
Q: Why were the four presidents chosen?
A: Sculptor Gutzon Borglum declared that they represented 150
years of American history, including the birth, growth,
preservation and development of this country. For Borglum,
Washington represented the BIRTH of our country since he was
our first president. Jefferson symbolized EXPANSION, since he
was largely responsible for the Louisiana Purchase in 1803. The
sculptor chose Lincoln to embody the PRESERVATION of the
union of states in confronting the challenges of the Civil War.
Theodore Roosevelt represented the DEVELOPMENT of our
country with the construction of the Panama Canal.
The sculpture cost $989,992.32. Local business, railroads and
private citizens contributed about $154,000 while the Federal
Government paid approximately $836,000. It took 14 years to
complete (1927-41), but that included funding delays. The actual
time to carve it was 6 ½ years. Borglum died a few months
before completion. Incredibly, not one person died while
sculpting Mount Rushmore.
This past May, Smithsonian magazine had a piece on Rushmore
by Tony Perrottet and I’ll just quote a few passages to give you
the Indian angle.
“ ‘A lot of Indian people look at Mount Rushmore as a symbol of
what white people did to this country when they arrived – took
the land from the Indians and desecrated it,’ (Superintendent
Gerard) Baker says. ‘I’m not going to concentrate on that. But
there is a huge need for Anglo-Americans to understand the
Black Hills before the arrival of the white men. We need to talk
about the first 150 years of America and what that means.’
“Indeed, Borglum erected his ‘shrine of democracy’ on sanctified
ground. Paha Sapa, meaning Black Hills in Lakota, were – and
remain – a sacred landscape to many Indian nations, some of
whom regard them as the center of the world….Under the 1868
Treaty of Fort Laramie, Congress confirmed that the area would
remain inviolate as the core of the Greater Sioux Reservation.
But only six years later, in 1874, President Ulysses S. Grant
ordered a military ‘reconnaissance’ of the Black Hills, possibly
because of rumors of gold in the mountains. He put the
operation under the command of Lt. Col. George Armstrong
Custer. In July 1874, Custer led a small army of more than 1,000
men, including cavalry and infantry, Indian scouts, interpreters,
guides and civilian scientists, into the region with over 100
canvas wagons, 3 Gatling guns and a cannon.
“This formidable group behaved, in the words of author Evan S.
Connell, ‘less like a military reconnaissance than a summer
excursion through the Catskills.’”
To the Lakota the expedition represented disaster. President
Grant tried to buy the Black Hills as the gold rush commenced in
1875, with Deadwood being one of the first illegal settlements,
but Chief Sitting Bull said he wouldn’t sell a speck of it. The
result was the Great Sioux War of 1876, as Custer deservedly got
his. Alas, the Indians, though, were soon defeated and told to
stay on their reservations.
And that’s part of the background on why the Indians hate Mount
Rushmore.
Back to your editor, after Rushmore I traveled on the alpine road
that takes you to Custer National Park, where the buffalo roam.
But the 1,500 or so that frolic on the grounds are rounded up the
first weekend in October, with 500 taken for meat that is then
given to charities, while the remaining 1,000 are corralled for the
winter. Then in the spring, those 1,000 have 500 calves (well,
actually 500 have 500) and presto…you have 1,500 by fall again.
The larger bulls, however, are left to roam Custer during the
winter because they are too dangerous to try to round up, so
knowing this, my chances of seeing one were virtually nil; and,
in fact, as I drove around I only saw signs of them, if you catch
my drift, though I did see a lot of elk and rams. [I also swear
I saw a mountain lion up on a barren hill…but I have no proof of
this and I wasn’t about to set out to have a sit down with it.
Or maybe it was a squirrel…my eyes are deteriorating rapidly as
I near 50.]
Next, I returned to Deadwood by a new way for me, Rt. 16 to Rt.
85, which takes you 30 miles into Wyoming before winding back
to South Dakota. I mean to tell you it is one gorgeous road after
another in these parts. But I almost bit the dust when I least
expected it. I was out of the park, climbing a mountain road,
took a sharp turn to the right, and there against the cliff wall were
two large deer, pinned against it. Had they been walking across
when I whipped around at 50 mph, well, it wouldn’t have been
pretty.
Wild Bill Hickok
I’ve told this story before, but I can’t come all the way to
Deadwood and not retell it. I also went to his gravesite for the
first time, at Mt. Moriah Cemetery, where he’s high up on a hill
overlooking the town. And, yes, Calamity Jane is buried next to
him, per her wish, even though Bill never loved the woman.
[Seth Bullock is there, too, but it was very icy and his grave was
a bit of a walk to get to so I bagged it.]
Anyway, James Butler Hickok was born on May 27, 1837, in
Homer, Illinois (later Troy Grove). His father was the operator
of a general store that was used as part of the underground
railroad where runaway slaves were hidden and smuggled to
‘safe’ farms. Hickok, as a youth, helped guide slaves to freedom.
He was a big kid and at 18 almost killed another man in a fight.
It was an ugly incident and Bill was forced to flee with his
brother to St. Louis and then Kansas. Hickok joined the Redlegs,
a group of anti-slavery men, and became town constable of
Monticello in Johnson County. But there was little work for him
so he hired on as a stagecoach driver on the Santa Fe Trail. One
day he was attacked by a bear and badly mauled, but Hickok
killed it with a knife and two guns.
While recuperating in Kansas City, he met William Frederick
Cody, Buffalo Bill, and the two became fast friends. But by July
1861, Hickok was taking up with a rancher’s mistress, Sarah
Shull. The rancher, David McCanles, confronted Hickok at his
cabin on July 12, asking him to “come out and fight fair!”
Hickok refused. McCanles said he would come in and drag him
out. “There’ll be one less s.o.b. if you try that,” shouted Hickok.
McCanles entered and Hickok shot him through the heart. [It’s
never been shown whether he confronted him directly, shot him
from behind a curtain, or whether McCanles was even armed.]
Two of McCanles’s friends came to his aid and Hickok shot
them both, though they managed to flea before they were in turn
chased down by Hickok’s associates and finished off.
Well, it was time for Hickok to move on, again, and for a while
he worked as a spy for a Union general in the Civil War during
which time he’s also credited with having been a sharpshooter at
the battle of Pea Ridge, Arkansas. It was during the Civil War
that he earned the nickname “Wild Bill” (which is why I haven’t
used it until now). There are various stories, but one has it he
stopped a lynch mob from hanging a youth and a woman shouted
“Good for you, Wild Bill!”
In the summer of 1865, the war over, Wild Bill moved to
Springfield, Missouri. He was well known in the streets and
always armed with two revolvers. David Tutt, a friend,
accompanied him everywhere and he also carried two guns.
At this time the two were courting the same woman, Susanna
Moore, and this led to trouble. Following is the account of Jay
Robert Nash in his book “Encyclopedia of Western Lawmen &
Outlaws,” from which my piece is also adapted.
“Hickok and Tutt…met in a Springfield saloon and gambling
hall on the night of July 20, 1865. Hickok beat Tutt at cards and
Tutt threw down his cards, snarling that Hickok owed him $40
for a horse trade. Hickok paid him. Then Tutt recalled another
old debt, one for $30. Hickok said no, it was only $25 he owed
Tutt and he said he would settle that matter later. Tutt grabbed
Hickok’s valued Waltham watch from the gaming table, telling
him he would wear it the next day on market square. Hickok
told Tutt that if he tried that, he would pay with his life.
“The gunfight was set for 6 a.m., and half the town was up to
witness the duel between Hickok and Tutt. Both men appeared
on opposite sides of the square and slowly advanced toward each
other. When they were separated by about 75 yards, Hickok
yelled: ‘Don’t come any closer, Dave!’ Tutt kept moving toward
Hickok. He pulled his six-gun and fired a shot that went wild.
Hickok then drew his gun with his right hand and steadied it with
his left, slowly squeezing off a round that smashed into Tutt’s
heart, killing him instantly. Hickok promptly turned himself into
Union authorities and was charged with murder, a charge later
reduced to manslaughter. He was tried Aug. 5-6, 1865, and was
found Not Guilty.”
After the trial, Wild Bill was a scout for General George
Armstrong Custer and the 7th Cavalry, though he left in 1869.
He next moved to Hays City, Kansas, where he was elected
sheriff of this rather rough place.
Hays City attracted some of the worst gunmen of the day. On
September 27, 1869, Samuel Strawhim arrived in town with six
teamsters. The boys stormed John Bitters’ Beer Saloon and
wrecked the place. Hickok arrived, accompanied by his deputy,
and they ordered Strawhim to surrender his guns. Strawhim
laughed and drew them instead. Wild Bill drew his 1851 Navy
Colts, blasting Strawhim. It was ruled justifiable homicide.
July 17, 1870, Hickok was in a saloon and jumped by seven
intoxicated troopers. They held him down while one put a gun to
his head and pulled the trigger…click…misfire. Wild Bill
struggled up, pulled his pistols and shot two while the others
backed off.
With incidents like these, Wild Bill Hickok’s reputation spread
across the west. Abilene, Kansas, was the next to call for his
services and he became marshal on April 15, 1871. Among the
fast draw artists in Abilene was the legendary John Wesley
Hardin. Hickok confronted Hardin one night while Hardin was
shooting up the town and ordered him to turn over his guns.
Thanks to Wild Bill’s reputation, Hardin complied for one of the
few times in his life.
Ben Thompson was another feared gunman in Abilene, but he
was supposedly pistol-whipped by Hickok in a saloon Thompson
was running. Ben never backed away from a fight, but when it
came to Hickok he did. Wild Bill wasn’t necessarily the fastest
gun in the west, but he was deadly accurate. Thompson, pride
hurt, offered Hardin $thousands to take out Hickok but Hardin
said Wild Bill was an honorable man and Thompson better shoot
him himself. Thompson dropped the idea.
Then there is the case of legendary gambler/gunfighter Phil Coe.
It was October 5, 1871, when Coe came into town with about 50
Texans. Hickok told them to behave but at 9:00 p.m., a shot was
fired outside the Alamo Saloon and when Hickok arrived he was
met by a dozen Texans and Coe, all with guns drawn. Coe said
he shot at a wild dog, Hickok drew, Coe fired twice from 15 feet,
both going through Hickok’s coat, and Hickok nailed Coe in the
stomach, prompting Wild Bill to say “I have fired too low.”
[Coe died three days later.]
While this was happening, a friend of Hickok’s, Mike Williams,
came to his aid, but in the darkness Hickok thought Williams
was one of the Texans and killed him. Deeply depressed by this
accident, Hickok decided to leave the law enforcement business
and participate in Bill Cody’s Wild West shows, but Hickok
drank too much and he didn’t enjoy the acting. By summer 1876
he found himself in Deadwood, Dakota Territory, where all he
did was drink some more and gamble. Deadwood was exploding
about that time, gold having been discovered, and Wild Bill
thought he could separate the miners and prospectors from their
gold at the poker tables.
But as you can see, as the years went by Hickok made a ton of
enemies from his days as a lawman. And so it was that he
crossed paths with an ugly dude, Jack McCall, a common
laborer.
Hickok had been in Deadwood only about a month when on
August 1, McCall lost $110, everything he possessed, to Hickok
playing poker. Hickok, a reasonable sort, loaned McCall some
money to have breakfast, but McCall had but one thought on his
mind…revenge.
Now one thing you need to know about Wild Bill; he always sat
with his back against the wall when playing poker; the better to
see who was walking into the joint. But on August 2, he walked
into Saloon Number 10, noticed a game in progress, but the
empty seat at the table faced away from the doorway. Hickok
tried to persuade the others to exchange seats, including Charlie
Rich whose char was against a wall, but Rich kept saying he
didn’t want to get shot in the back.
Around 4:00 p.m., McCall entered and ordered a drink at the bar.
Then he slowly walked up behind Hickok and fired an old six-
gun once in his back. [Other accounts say McCall shot Hickok
in the head.] Hickok toppled out of his chair, dead. He was
clutching his poker hand, aces and eights (with the nine of
diamonds), forever after known as “The Dead Man’s Hand.”
At first, the other players didn’t realize what had just transpired
until they saw McCall’s smoking gun. Bartender Anson Tipple
jumped over the bar and tried to stop McCall who was tearing
out of the place, without success. Immediately, several people
began running through the streets of Deadwood, “Wild Bill has
been shot! Wild Bill is dead!”
The bullet that killed Hickok passed through him and lodged in
William Rodney Massie’s wrist. Massie never had it taken out
and it stayed there until his death in 1910.
McCall was found hiding in a barber shop where he was arrested
and charged with murder. A huge throng attended Wild Bill’s
funeral the next day (friend Charlie Utter arranged it) and
McCall was tried right after. McCall insisted he was blinded by
rage; that Wild Bill had killed his brother in Kansas years earlier.
It was all a lie, but the jury believed him and he was acquitted.
McCall then fled to Laramie, where he was arrested again for
killing Hickok. It was ruled the Deadwood trial was illegal and
McCall was ordered to stand trial again in Yankton, Dakota
Territory. This time he was found Guilty and sentenced to death.
McCall actually had the temerity to appeal to President Grant,
but Grant refused to act and finally on March 1, 1877, Jack
McCall was hanged.
[Source: “Encyclopedia of Western Lawmen & Outlaws,” Jay
Robert Nash]
The story of Hiram Scott
Back to Scotts Bluff National Monument in Scottsbluff,
Nebraska, for the tale of how the place got its name. ‘Gather
round kids, but grab a beer for me while you’re up.’
[I’m working on a catchphrase, a la Vin Scully’s “so pull up a
chair.” I think mine’s better.]
In the 1820s, fur traders like Jim Bridger began to make names
for themselves. Bridger discovered the Great Salt Lake, for
example, and other figures were Thomas Fitzpatrick and Robert
Stuart.
Another was William Ashley, who is credited with devising a
more efficient method for obtaining beaver pelts. Before Ashley,
“each spring trappers would have to haul pelts gathered the
previous winter all the way to St. Louis to sell them. Ashley’s
idea was to have the trappers stay out on the frontier where they
could spend more time gathering pelts, and he would bring pack
trains loaded down with trade items and supplies to pre-arranged
places. The trappers would then be able to trade their furs for
items they needed and Ashley would return to St. Louis with
horses loaded down with furs.” And so it was called the
rendezvous system. [Source: National Park Service guide to
Scotts Bluff…$2.00 retail]
But in 1828, the rendezvous led to a tragic event. The story
concerns Hiram Scott, an employee of the American Fur
Company, symbol FUR on the New York Stock Exchange.
[When it rallies, the traders like to say, “The FUR be flyin’!”]
Scott had been an employee of the outfit for about five years and
was serving as a clerk at the rendezvous in Wyoming, but
somehow he met his death.
William A. Ferris, who traveled up the Platte River in 1830
[recall the Platte parallels Scotts Bluff], made the earliest
recorded description of Scott’s death.
“We encamped opposite ‘Scott’s Bluffs’ so called in respect to
the memory of a young man who was left here alone to die a few
years previous. He was a clerk in a company returning from the
mountains, the leader of which found it necessary to leave him
behind at a place some distance above this point, in consequence
of a severe illness which rendered him unable to ride. He was
consequently placed in a bullhide boat, in charge of two men,
who had orders to convey him by water down to these bluffs,
where the leader of the party promised to await their coming.
After a weary and hazardous voyage, they reach the appointed
rendezvous, and found to their surprise and bitter
disappointment, that the company had continued on down the
river without stopping for them to overtake and join it.
“Left thus in the heart of the wilderness, hundreds of miles from
any point where assistance or succor could be obtained, and
surrounded by predatory bands of savages thirsting for blood and
plunder, could any conditions be deemed more hopeless or
deplorable? They had, moreover, in descending the river, met
with some accident, either the loss of the means of procuring
subsistence or defending their lives in case of discovery and
attack. This unhappy circumstance, added to the fact that the
river was filled with innumerable shoals and sandbars, by which
its navigation was rendered almost impracticable, determined
them to forsake their charge and boat together, and push on night
and day until they should overtake the company, which they did
on the second or third day afterward…
“Poor Scott! We will not attempt to picture what his thoughts
must have been after his cruel abandonment, nor harrow up the
feelings of the reader, by a recital of what agonies he must have
suffered before death put an end to his misery.
“The bones of a human being were found the spring following,
on the opposite side of the river, which were supposed to be the
remains of Scott. It was conjectured that in the energy of
despair, he had found strength to carry him across the stream,
and then staggered about the prairie, till God in pity took him to
himself.”
Well the legend grew over time. Two years later Captain
Benjamin Bonneville (I wonder if he founded the salt flats of the
same name…seriously) wrote that after being abandoned, Scott
somehow struggled for 60 miles on the prairie, “and it appeared
that the wretched man had crawled that immense distance before
death put an end to his miseries. The wild and picturesque bluffs
in the neighborhood of his lonely grave have ever since borne his
name.”
And now you know…..the rest of the story.
Stuff
–The final three games of the World Series failed to crack the
top ten in prime-time ratings…truly pitiful.
–Equally pitiful is the fact Jeff Bagwell will earn another $7
million next year just to sit at home, after raking in about $17
million this past season while on the disabled list. It’s tough to
relate to this kind of stuff, especially when any smart baseball
fan knows Bagwell was a juicer.
–Ken V. gave me grief for giving Tiki Barber a hard time. Ken
offers that Tiki is doing nothing that Jerome Bettis didn’t do last
year. Point taken. But Tiki has learned a lesson, I imagine.
Don’t fight the press, especially when your goal is to be a major
player in that very business.
–Long-time friend Manny R. (oh, how Manny and I quaffed a
few adult beverages back in the early 80s), Rutgers alum, is
hoping this year’s performance on the gridiron is real. In fact,
Manny said he’s donated to the school for the first time in quite a
while…the “Flutie effect,” as he puts it.
At this point in the season, it’s no mystery what Rutgers is all
about…defense and a terrific runner. And all together, football
fans…defense and rushing win games in November. So of
course they can beat Louisville and West Virginia. But I can
guarantee something else. It will come down to turnovers.
[Even our own Dr. Bortrum said of Rutgers running back Ray
Rice, he reminded him of Tony Dorsett; the good doctor being a
fellow Pitt alum.]
–And now your….PICKS TO CLICK
With the editor’s 9-9 record on the line…the betting window is
open.
Air Force, giving 7 to Army
Maryland, taking 16 ½ vs. Clemson
Oklahoma State, taking 16 ½ vs. Texas
[Monday’s betting lines…as posted in USA Today]
I forgot in my discussion of Boise State and its chances at a BCS
bid that it may only need to reach #12 in the BCS standings (it’s
currently #14), depending on the number of automatic bids going
to the conferences. And, I also forgot Boise State beat Oregon
State 42-14 earlier in the year…the same Oregon State team that
just beat USC.
–Note to Trader George. I saw the latest Division I-A hockey
poll and I didn’t see St. Lawrence in the top 25, nor did I see
them even getting a vote. Wassup with dat?
–I just have to throw in that John Kerry is hands down “Idiot of
the Year.” You’ll have to excuse me when I note this again in
that other column I do.
–So much for The Tour Championship, without Tiger and Phil.
[And Stephen Ames.] Tiger is claiming fatigue, and he’s entitled
to do just about anything he feels like, but the fact is he’s playing
in Asia like three weeks in a row coming up. You know,
guarantees and all that jazz. As for Lefty, this is one messed up
dude. He must be waking up nightly in a cold sweat after his
latest dream about another driving miscue. You could make a
good bet on whether he wins a tourney in 2007. I’d say it’s
50/50.
Top 3 songs for the week of 11/5/77: #1 “You Light Up My
Life” (Debby Boone) #2 “Nobody Does It Better” (Carly
Simon) #3 “Boogie Nights” (Heatwave)…and…#5 “Brick
House” (Commodores) #6 “It’s Ecstasy When You Lay Down
Next To Me” (Barry White…I miss Barry) #7 “I Feel Love”
(Donna Summer)
NFC Receivers Quiz Answers: 1) New Orleans, 1969: Danny
Abramowicz. 2) Chicago, 1970: Dick Gordon. 3) Eagles, 1972-
74: ’72 – Harold Jackson; ’73 – Harold Carmichael; ’74 –
Charles Young. 4) Giants league leaders: 1971, Bob Tucker;
1983, Ernest Gray (tied with Roy Green and Charlie Brown
Next Bar Chat, Monday pm…back home.
