Journal Notes

One of the reasons I’m attracted to the Old West genre is the notion of frontier justice. Bad people got what they deserved, a bullet between the eyes or hung. Avenging wrongs against your family, ala Wyatt Earp, was expected and accepted. The process had its flaws, but bad guys knew they couldn’t get away with it forever. I live vicariously through the actions of Wyatt Earp and what he did for his brothers. I’d have done the same.

I’ve spent part of the day revising a book proposal I’ve written about film producer Howard Kazanjian. He has had a rich film career and has worked with many repected members of the industry from Sam Peckinpah to George Lucus. His story will benefit film students and fans of film alike.

I began research on another book – this one will be about frontier schoolmarms. Emigrants established schools for their children almost as soon as they were settled in the new land. In sparsely furnished rooms equipped with mininmal supplies, western teachers taught as many as twenty separate lessons a day to youngsters ranging in age from four to twenty-four. I’m looking forward to writing about these heroic women.

I received three copies of the pictorial Happy Trails today. It reminded me of what wonderful people Roy Rogers and Dale Evans were and what a wonderful job the art department at Globe Pequot Press did on the book. There are so many people I write about I wished I’d known personally. Roy and Dale were two of them. They managed to keep the faith no matter what tragedy occured in their lives. I admire that and aspire to one day be like that myself.

Back in Grass Valley, California after an enlightening research trip. Kansas is a lovely state and it was a treat to be able to walk the same streets traveled by Wild Bill Hickock and Bill Tilghman. I’m putting the finishing touches on the book about women miners of the Old West. It will include a glossary of mining terms – one of which has always baffled me – the term “sourdough.” The term now refers to a “veteran inhabitant of an area,” but during the Yukon gold rush of the late 19th century, sourdough bread was a staple in the prospector’s camp, and the prospectors themselves became known as sourdoughs.

Woke up in Dodge City, Kansas yesterday. My stay at the historical location was enlighting and memorable. The research staff at the Kansas Heritage Center couldn’t have been nicer or more cooperative. I’m anxious to put words to paper for the new book entitled Thunder Over the Prairie. The posse that originated out of Dodge City consisted of Wyatt Earp, Bat Masterson, Charlie Bassett and Bill Tilghman. It’s going to be quite an adventure.

I travel to Winterset, Iowa tomorrow for the celebration of what would have been John Wayne’s 100th birthday. I feel blessed to be a part of the book signing event that will include several other authors who have written about Wayne. I’ll also be visiting Dodge City, Kansas and gathering information for an upcoming book entitled Thunder Over the Prairie.

In the summer of 1849 Dr. Fayette Clappe from New Jersey arrived in San Francisco. With him was his small, blonde, vivacious wife. Louise Ameila Knapp-Smith Clappe was a published writer, but her most famous works were yet to come. For, as “Dame Shirley,” she would write a series of twenty-three letters from the gold mines which would become classics. Her descriptions of the very location where I currently live is riveting. I’m pleased her story will be included in the new book about women miners of the Old West.

My research on the new book about women miners of the Old West took me to Tonopah, Nevada today. I spent time poring over information about a tenacious prospector named Ellen Nay. On March 31, 1909, she discovered a 75 pound boulder full of gold at the base of the Sugarloaf Mountains near Salsbury Washington, Nevada. “Oh, Lord,” she proclaimed after learning about the depth of her discovery, “I never supposed there was so much gold in the world.”

Another day in the Old West. I am currently working on a book entitled A Beautiful Mine, Lady Miners of the Old West. Included in this work is a chapter about Baby Doe Tabor, the Silver Queen of Colorado. She is the least likeable character I’ve written about to date. A manipulative woman who, from the age of four, knew how to “work” the opposite sex to get what she wanted. She wanted to marry a rich man and set her sights on Horace Tabor. It made no difference to her that he was a married man with children. She wanted what she wanted and would have it regardless of who was hurt in the process. In the end she had few friends, was deserted by her children and died alone. When they found her body in her run down shack outside the Matchless Mine she only had a small cache of food in her pantry and a few sticks of wood to keep her warm. I guess some people do get their “come-upings.”