Who’s Really Buried in Buffalo Bill’s Grave?

 

The Author at Buffalo Bill's Grave on Lookout Mountain
(Photo Credit: Tami Ritt)

A few years ago, during a trip to Colorado, I took the opportunity to visit the gravesite of that iconic western figure, William Fredrick Cody, better known as Buffalo Bill. The grave is prominently placed on top of Lookout Mountain outside of Golden, Colorado.

Rising 7,377 feet, Lookout Mountain is part of the eastern foothills of the Rocky Mountains and is located about two miles southwest of Golden, Colorado. Aptly named, from its summit you have an imposing view of a large part of Colorado’s eastern plains, including an impressive view of the city of Denver twelve miles to the east.

Buffalo Bill passed away from kidney failure on January 10th, 1917, while visiting his sister in Denver. The first draft of his will indicated that he wanted to be buried on Cedar Mountain near the town that he founded – Cody, Wyoming. However, in the final draft of his will, Cody had changed the choice of his eternal resting place to Lookout Mountain.

The view from Lookout Mountain. The city of Golden is in the foreground and Denver can be seen on the horizon.

(Photo Credit: Michael R. Ritt)

In January of 1917, the road to Lookout Mountain was impassible because of the snow, so the undertaker at Olinger’s Mortuary in Denver kept Cody’s body on ice until June when the roads could clear and the summit to Lookout Mountain could be reached. During those six months, Olinger’s embalmed Cody’s body six times to prevent decomposition and keep it looking “fresh” until they could hold the funeral service.

Here’s an interesting side note about the Olinger Mortuary. It is now “Linger Eatuaries.” That’s right. If you are up for a little macabre dining experience, you can visit Linger’s and dine in the same building where Buffalo Bill was embalmed. (It actually looks like a beautiful restaurant).

There has been some ill-will, and not a little controversy, between Colorado and their neighbor to the north over the burial of Buffalo Bill Cody. There were rumors that some fearless Wyoming patriots stole Cody’s body from the mortuary and replaced it with the body of a vagrant who looked like Buffalo Bill. This is highly unlikely and these rumors were never taken very seriously. During his funeral in June of 1917, Cody’s family and friends, as well as thousands of mourners, viewed his open casket. Someone surely would have recognized if there had been an imposter in the casket instead of the famous scout and showman.

Buffalo Bill Cody circa 1875

In 1921, Cody’s wife, Louisa, died and was buried next to her husband on Lookout Mountain. Shortly thereafter, Cody’s niece, Mary Jester Allen accused Denver officials of conspiring to bury Cody on Lookout Mountain rather than sending his body to Cody, Wyoming. People on both sides of the Colorado-Wyoming border were enraged by the new allegations. As a result, John Baker, Cody’s foster son, had Buffalo Bill and Louisa reburied under tons of concrete to ward off any attempts to steal the bodies.

The controversy continued in 1948 when members of the American Foreign Legion in Cody, Wyoming offered a $10,000.00 reward to anyone who could steal Cody’s body and return it to Wyoming. This prompted the state of Colorado to call out the National Guard to be stationed around the gravesite to protect it from being pilfered.

As recently as 2006, Wyoming state legislators were still “joking” about retrieving Cody’s body through covert means.

Always the showman and consummate entertainer, I think that Cody would have enjoyed the hullabaloo and the attention that he is still drawing, more than 100 years after his death.

Buffalo Bill's Casket

About the Author:

Mike is an award-winning Western author currently living in a 600 square foot cabin in the mountains of Western Montana. He has been married to his redheaded sweetheart, Tami, since 1989. He is a Western Fictioneers Peacemaker Award Finalist three years in a row and his short stories have been published in numerous anthologies and are available through Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and other online retailers as well as brick and mortar bookstores. His first Western novel, The Sons of Philo Gaines, was released in November of 2020. It is available everywhere books are sold. Mike is a member of Western Writers of America and Western Fictioneers. You can find him on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/MichaelRRittAuthor, or at his website https://michaelrritt.com.

The Story Behind Six-Gun Salad

by Richard Prosch

From an everyday greeting as people pass each other on the street, to organized community efforts, small town America often overflows with an abundance of kindness and generosity. But like anywhere else, it can be rife with contention, often hidden, often held tight just below the surface until one wrong word or action sets off a powder keg of enmity. 

When guns are involved, bad feelings can turn deadly in the space of a heartbeat.

You don't have to follow the news closely to know there's been a lot of media coverage about racial tension. 

Students of history know this is nothing new. 

The countries of origin may change, but even in the old west, old-country grudges kept new generations at each others' throats.

All of these thoughts came together writing my new Jo Harper story, SIX-GUN SALAD from Painted Pony Books. Community picnics, but arguments in the street. Individuals working to get along while others held to old their old cultural bias. 

Guns to bring destruction. Or guns to bring justice.

It all got tossed together in the bowl and served up as danger for Jo, Frog and Abby, and hopefully, a reminder of the best and worst of our natures --qualities that often aren't what they might first seem to be. 

Working through the contradictions is important for young and old alike. Another reason I like to think of these stories as good for all ages.

Blurb

Would you cry over spilled potato salad? Would you risk your life for it? Jo Harper can't contain her frustration when a determined Danish lawyer and a hard-headed German farmer get ready to square off with guns over just that.

It's an Elizabethan tragedy-in-the-making unless Jo, Frog and Abby can unravel the threads of a dangerous plot that threatens to tear apart not just two families, but the entire town of Willowby, Wyoming.

Excerpt

"Karl! Karl, that's enough."

To his credit, Svensen listened to his wife and backed away from Schultz. But not before delivering another rotten threat.

"Stay away from us, Kraut. Stay away from my family, away from my house and business. We don't need your kind."

But Schultz wasn't having it.

He stood up with a clumsy stagger and, brushing himself off, delivered a counter-threat.

"You are all mouth and all knuckles because you are bigger than me. But how are you with a gun, counselor? Let me get my gun and we'll see who is better."

Jo thought she saw where Mr. Schultz was going, and though she was an innocent bystander, she was also Abby Drake's deputy constable. She ran between the men.

"Go home, Mr. Schultz. Go home, before you say something you'll regret."

"Stay out of this, Jo," said Svensen, reaching out to brush her aside.

Jo sidestepped the lawyer's reach and again tried to appeal to Schultz.

"Think of your family, sir. Think about Buster. You don't want to do this."

For the first time that night, Schultz seemed to see Jo, really see her, and the look in his eyes didn't belong to a bleary-headed drunk, but to a hurt man hoping to regain his pride.

"I have to, Jo. Sometimes, a man has to do these things."

Jo let Schultz gently push her aside. He stood tall and, in front of her and Mrs. Svensen, said, "Tuesday morning. Seven o-clock in front of the Filter Building. Find a weapon, you scurvy Dane. Find a weapon and prepare to pay the price for your insults."

It wasn't going to be such a quiet week, after all.

Schultz had just challenged the lawyer to a gunfight!

 Leave a comment for a chance at a free copy of Richard Prosch's Six-Gun Salad.

 Buy Links  B&N Nook   Amazon   Smashwords    Kobo

Meanwhile, the first book in the Jo Harper series, WAITING FOR A COMET, is free for Kindle until August 14.

After growing up on a Nebraska farm, Richard Prosch worked as a professional writer, artist, and teacher in Wyoming, South Carolina, and Missouri. His western crime fiction captures the fleeting history and lonely frontier stories of his youth where characters aren’t always what they seem, and the windburned landscapes are filled with swift, deadly danger. Read more at www.RichardProsch.com

"From 0 TO 80 In a Few Weeks: Cheyenne and Laramie, Wyoming" by Steve Kohlhagen

If you go out and hop into your friendly neighborhood time machine in order to check out Cheyenne and Laramie, Wyoming in April of 1867, you will find............Well, you will find nothing.

Prairie dogs? Sure. Buffalo? Sure. Plains Indians? Sure. Plains? Sure. But settlers? None. Zero. Zilch. A few brave souls or miners riding by now and then, for sure. But no sign of anything approaching a town or a settlement. Maybe a cattle rancher dropping by for a speculative visit in case the rumors of the coming railroad were true.

And the rumors were true.

On July 5, 1867 a surveying party set up camp and established a land office at what would later become Cheyenne. They platted a town to serve the coming Union Pacific Railroad stop. And presto! Out of prairie dog villages, a boom town!

The first house was built. Then the first two story house was built, both that very month. When the railroad actually arrived four months later, on November 13, there were already 4,000 residents and a nearly two month old newspaper, The Cheyenne Leader. By all accounts, these 4,000 or so fortune seekers, saloon owners, "girls" and their employers, and gamblers were all "the scum of society."

Nevertheless, the citizens held a meeting on September 27 and decided to elect an (uninvited) delegate to Congress, which they did on October 8 (more than a month before the railroad would actually arrive). The settlers were excited about the coming cattle boom, but in no way were they ready to let any grass grow under their feet! When the first winter arrived 6,000 people had set up shop in "The Sodom of the West."

By January 1868, it was time to deal with the worst of the scum, and the town's vigilantes came into full swing, warning citizens explicitly to "Beware of the Vigilance Committee." At the end of 1868, by which time the railroad had reached westward to what would be Laramie, the town had three newspapers and three banks. Population estimates exceeding 50,000 were being thrown around. This was clearly too high, but the picture is clear. A more reliable estimate held that by 1871 an estimated 60,000 cattle were grazing within 100 miles of the town, where, a mere four years earlier, only antelope, buffalo, and prairie dogs had more or less quietly roamed the plains (see
http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/chey69.html for some fascinating pictures of this thriving town in 1868 and 1869.)

The same amazing story then moved 50 miles west. On to what was to become Laramie.

The land agent for the Union Pacific Railroad arrived at that spot in April, 1868 to find a tent city of 200 people anticipating his arrival. These hardy souls were already camped out in wagons, tents, sod-roofed dugouts, and railroad-tie cabins.

In the first week, four hundred town lots were sold. In the first two weeks, 500 "businesses" arrived.

On May 9, the final track was laid and on May 10, the first train arrived to find a thriving shack and tent city of 2,000 people, the vast majority of whom were described as "rakes," three card monte dealers, poker players, gamblers, their "shrill voiced painted consorts," and other "dregs." Various descriptions suggest that there were no churches, but there were already 23 saloons, and, in addition, several "hog ranches" and "parlor houses." The ratio of men to women was reportedly 6:1. I have no way of knowing for sure, but I'm guessing that there were very few housewives and schoolmarms among those 300 females.

By October, the population had soared to 5,000 in five months (amusingly, the 2010 census shows fewer than 31,000), and the good citizens, like their neighboring community of Cheyenne, 10 months older and 50 miles to the east, had had enough of their roaring carnival. On October 28, 1868 the "Vigilance Committee" arrested the three half brothers who had been terrifying what passed for the law abiding citizens. The three were arrested in their Bucket of Blood Saloon, and the citizens of the thriving five month old town awoke the next morning to the sight of them, and several of their comrades, hanging from various buildings on the public streets.

In a few short months, Laramie and Cheyenne had arrived as full-blown Western towns.

And---you guessed it (drum rolls to a shameful self-promotion)---both towns star in Chief of Thieves:

Where They Bury You, Chief of Thieves, Sunstone Press, is now available at Barnes & Noble and Amazon.

www.StevenWKohlhagen.com

Amazon Author Page

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Twitter: @StevenKohlhagen

stevekohlhagen@comcast.net

Where Do You Write? by Richard Prosch

So, today as I sit down to write in a familiar environment, I'm curious about you, Fictioneers.

Where do you write?

Not the setting your fictional characters live in. 

I'm wondering about your physical environment. Home? Office? Patio? And how superstitious are you about that place?  Is it clean? Cluttered?

Several years ago, I realized that it was easier for me to more quickly get into (and out of) the zone at a local coffee shop than in my home office. With time always in short supply, sinking quickly into that place where all the distractions vanish, where the story runs crystal clear through your head like a cold-water stream, is vital.  

For me, it makes sense. No ringing phone. No email to check. No family distractions, and nobody driving up to knock on the door.  Hot coffee on hand. Pleasant music. 

One enjoyable aspect of writing in public is people watching. And listening. A couple years ago, a local PI used the corner table for a temporary office. I got a kick out of listening to him discuss cases  over his Bluetooth ear piece. His slogan should've been "We take the private out of private detective."

But the place is far from perfect.  Every now and then, a writing session gets dangerously interrupted by some loudmouth talking religion or politics. Or one of the friendly regulars (bless 'em)  stops past my table to chat. And there's ergonomics to consider. Even though I protect my wrists while typing, the chair isn't the best for long term work.

So it's great for quick sessions. Say an hour, or two with a break. A thousand words.

For longer sessions, my office chair at home offers great back support and arm rests. And my computer screen is bigger. Here too, I can get the coffee and music, but I have to be extra careful about the distractions. Cute as they may be, I don't type well with the cat on my lap. Or keyboard. You cat people know what I mean.

And for me, the neighbor situation is better now than it was. This is similar to the problem I mentioned above about well-meaning friends stopping by the coffee shop table. It's worse at home, when they park themselves on your doorstep or, if they get past your defenses, fall onto your couch. For about a year we had a gal who, upon finding out that we worked at home, just couldn't pass up the chance to unload her woe upon us two or three times a week. The only way to deal with that was a polite, but firm rebuff. Hard to do in a rural area where nobody's a stranger.

Author Kevin J. Anderson gave up the keyboard and dictates most of his work while walking or hiking. This seems ideal, and a fine solution to some of the health problems writers (and other sedentary workers) face. I've dabbled with Dragon speaking software in the office, but have never tried straight dictation while involved in another activity. You can read moreabout Kevin's process here. 

So what about it, Fictioneers? Where do you write? What props do you need? How do you avoid the distractions? Please share a comment below.

After growing up on a Nebraska farm, Richard Prosch worked as a professional writer, artist, and teacher in Wyoming, South Carolina, and Missouri. His western crime fiction captures the fleeting history and lonely frontier stories of his youth where characters aren’t always what they seem, and the windburned landscapes are filled with swift, deadly danger. Read more at www.RichardProsch.com

LIVER EATING JOHNSON - Meg Mims

In 1972, when Robert Redford hit the screen in the popular western film Jeremiah Johnson, girls and women gushed over the rugged good looks and strong, often-silent actor tramping through the hard wilderness. He'd portrayed the Sundance Kid opposite Paul Newman's Butch Cassidy in that huge hit three years earlier, and also the sheriff in Tell Them Willie Boy Is Here. Redford looked great on horseback, tramping through the snow, appreciating unspoiled nature. But few knew the real story behind the mountain man John "Liver Eating" Johnson.

First, the film took its sources from Raymond Thorp and Richard Bunker's book Crow Killer: The Saga of Liver-Eating Johnson (1958) along with Vardis Fisher's Mountain Man (1965). Both novels are still in print today.

Johnson was a legend, indeed, since few original sources mention him. There were multiple men named Johnson who lived in the west in that era, but he was distinguished by his nickname. Supposedly, the mountain man was born in New Jersey with the surname Garrison and served on a naval ship in the Mexican-American War. He deserted after striking an officer.

That's when he changed his name to John Johnson and headed to Alder Gulch, Montana Territory, to dig for gold. He may have cut wood and stacked them into cords for steamboats. He stood six foot or six foot two, around 260 pounds without a bit of body fat from all the hard work he did as a sailor, gold miner, wood-hawk, hunter, trapper, scout, soldier, whiskey-peddler, log cabin builder, deputy, guide, constable -- whatever he could do to earn money.

But the real legend of becoming "Liver Eating Johnson" and "Dapiek Absaroka" or Crow Killer began around 1847. Johnson had taken an Indian wife from the Flathead tribe, who was murdered by a band of Crow Indians. Johnson didn't take kindly to that, and hunted them down - cutting out and eating their livers after death. Crow Indians believed the liver was a vital organ on their path to the afterlife, so that was a true insult. The film, however, never mentions that in dialogue.

Several tales of Liver Eating Johnson - that of being attacked by a band of Blackfeet who planned to sell him to the Crow, escaping and surviving by eating the legs of a captor, may be attributed to another and far more notorious mountain man of that era, killer and cannibal Boone Helm. Other famous mountain men include Kit Carson, Jim Bridger, Old Bill Williams, James Clyman, John Colter, David Edward Jackson, Jedediah S. Smith, Doc Newell and Jonathan Warner.

Despite his former desertion under a different name, Johnson enlisted in the Union Army in 1864, Company H, 2nd Colorado Cavalry, and received an honorable discharge in 1865. He returned to Montana, preferring solitude, but did serve as deputy sheriff in Coulson and as town marshal in Red Lodge in the 1880s. By the end of his life, however, he spent his last month in a veterans home in Santa Monica, California. Johnson's body was relocated to Cody, Wyoming, from a Los Angeles cemetery after a 5th grade class and the teacher campaigned for it. The bronze statue below stands above Liver Eating Johnson's grave at Old Trail Town.

More Sources:

The Avenging Fury of the Plains: John Liver Eating Johnston. Dennis J. McLelland, Infinity Publishing, 2008.

Tales of the Mountain Man. Lamar Underwood, Editor, Lyons Press, 2004.

Jim Bridger, Mountain Man. Stanley Vestal, University of Nebraska Press, 1970.

Mystery author Meg Mims lives in Southeastern Michigan with her husband and a 'Make My Day' Malti-poo dog. Meg loves writing novels, short novellas and short stories, both contemporary and historical. Her Spur and Laramie Award winning books - Double Crossing and Double or Nothing - are now among the Prairie Rose Publications book list. Meg is also one-half of the D.E. Ireland team writing the Eliza Doolittle & Henry Higgins Mystery series for St. Martin's Minotaur. Wouldn't It Be Deadly, Book 1, is out now! Book 2, Move Your Blooming Corpse, will be out in 2015. You can find Meg (and D.E. Ireland) on Twitter, Facebook and Pinterest. 

Past, Present & Posterity: Wyoming 1890 -1990

By Richard Prosch

In 1990, an unlikely group of fiction writers, poets, visual artists, teachers, students and celebrities came together to celebrate Wyoming's centennial with a unique micro press book as rich in content as it is

now, 24 years later, hard to find.

Past, Present & Posterity: Wyoming 1890-1990 is a spiral bound mash-up with short contributions (one to three pages each) from every corner of the arts and every part of Wyoming's bright and varied culture. Everybody was invited and anybody could be represented. It was edited by Nancy Jennings, Linda Love, Sherry Tavegie and printed in Buffalo, Wyoming early in the year.

Living in Laramie, eking out a few bucks here and there as an artist, I was putting up a solo show of my western paintings and the director of the gallery, who knew I was also writing, suggested a I contribute something to the centennial project. My non-fiction piece describing an art project was accepted, and I kept it on my resume for a few years as a professional credit. When we moved to South Carolina, I promptly lost my only copy. Even a few years after publication it was hard to get a replacement. In fact, it was harder then than now with Amazon and AbeBooks.com available at our fingertips. I finally got a new copy a few weeks ago, and I'm still paging through it. 

Third generation rancher Charles Lawrence contributed a piece about historical cattle brands. Western novelist Les Wayne Merha, who wrote as "Les Wayne" gave us a history of the French-Canadian trapper Joseph LaRamee, he who the river, county and town are named after. TV's Morey Amsterdam contributed a song, and famed lawyer Gerry Spence sent in a familiar fable. Included here are art projects and poems, recipes and legends.  It's an odd mix, but what makes it work is each contributor's obvious love for their home state.

Keep an eye out for it. If you find a copy for less than $20, grab it up for your reference library. Get it for: 

Paula Taylor's bullet list of Flirtations with Handkerchief, Fan, Glove and Parasol.
.
George Fraker's step-by-step guide to constructing your own western saddle from scratch

Nadine Zowada's essay on dying yarn with natural dyes.

Marva Haukass piece on the Shosone method of brain tanning hides.
.
Patrick Walsh's story about the Famous Deadline of 1908

Get it for stories about Butch Cassidy, the Abe Lincoln monument on I-80, and the wildfires of 1988. 

It's a unique resource, and one I'm sure you'll enjoy when it crosses your path.  

A few copies are available at Amazon and AbeBooks.com