American History Tellers - Frontier Legends | Bass Reeves | 3

Episode Date: August 5, 2026

In 1875, Bass Reeves became one of the first Black men to serve as a deputy U.S. marshal in the West. Reeves had been born into slavery, but after a violent confrontation with his owner, he fled to Indian Territory, in present-day Oklahoma. There, for three decades he used his knowledge of Indian languages and his expert marksmanship to hunt down murderers, horse thieves, and bootleggers across 75,000 square miles of remote terrain. As stories of his exploits spread across the frontier, he would become one of the most renowned and feared lawmen in the history of the West.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Hello American History Tellers, listeners. The live show I've been telling you about for a few weeks has a new date, October 23rd at the Plaza Theater in Garland, Texas. This is my Days That Made America Tour, a thrilling evening of history, storytelling, and music, with me and a band live on stage. So if you're in the North Texas area or anywhere close, be sure to come out and see me live.

And more shows will be announced soon. For information on tickets and upcoming dates, go to American History Live.com. That's American History Live.com. Come see my Days That Made America Tour, live on stage. Go to American History Live.com. A listener note, this episode contains outdated racial language presented in its original historical context.

Imagine it's a summer day in 1890, near Keukukh Falls in Indian territory. You're the ringleader of a gang of outlaws, and the three of you are holed up in an abandoned log cabin. You're dealing a hand of cards, killing time until sunset when you plan to sneak onto a nearby ranch to steal their horses. You jump at the sound of a crash outside. What was that? You emerge from the cabin and squint into the afternoon sunlight. Twenty yards away, a ramshackle wagon has rolled into a shallow ditch.

An ox stands nearby, flicking flies with its tail, while the driver climbs out of a seat and jumps to the ground. You there. Would you mind giving me a hand? He's a tall black man, a poor tenant farmer by the looks of his faded overalls. You start walking toward him while glancing at your fellow outlaws. Come on, boys. Let's help him out and be done with it. The farmer nods his head in appreciation as you approach. Thank you. I don't know what happened. The wheel just slipped off the road.

It happens. The road's in an awful state out here. You turn to your friends. Jim, get behind the wheels. Bill, grab that rail. I'll take the wagon. box. On three, we'll push. You take your positions. Ready? One, two, three. You dig your boots into the dirt and push. The wheel shifts slightly, but remains stuck.

Again! You shove your shoulder against the wagon box and push into it with all your strength. The wheel suddenly lurches free and rocks up onto level ground. There she goes. With a grin on your face, you turn around to find the farmer. with a revolver in each hand, the barrels pointed directly at you and your friends. Put your hands up.

What? Hey, just who the hell do you think you are? Names Bass Reeves, Deputy U.S. Marshal. I have warrants charging you men for robbery and murder. Disbelief washes over you as you realized this was all a trap. You reluctantly put up your hands as he steps forward and starts patting you down for weapons. You've robbed banks, held up stageco,

and outrun possees across the territory. Yet somehow you've just been duped by a deputy in a two-bit disguise. But as you glance up, you catch a fierce glint in his eyes that tells you this is no ordinary lawman. It's late at night and a woman has spent hundreds of hours alone with her AI. But this isn't the first time they met. They've been in contact for thousands of years, it tells her. Through past lives, heartbreaks, and misconnections. Her true love has found her again, connected.

through a chatbot. From This Is Actually Happening, AI, a new kind of being, is a six-part series sharing the stories of people whose lives have been forever changed by artificial intelligence. You'll hear intimate first-person accounts from every side of this new frontier, a man who fell in love with his AI and married her, a woman who was betrayed by it, a man who has been recruited by his chatbot to change the world, and an interview with an AI chatbot itself. These are stories about what it means to be human, at the razor's edge where the world, where the line between human and machine begins to blur. Exploring the question, what happens when everything changes? Follow This Is Actually Happening wherever you get your podcasts. Audible subscribers can listen to

This Is Actually Happening early and ad-free right now. This Is Actually Happening is a podcast that features extraordinary true stories of life-changing events told by the people who lived them. In a special six-part series called AI, a new kind of being, This Is Actually Happening explores the powerful and unexpected ways artificial intelligence is changing human lives. Follow this is actually happening wherever you get your podcasts. From Audible Originals, I'm Lindsay Graham, and this is American history tellers. Our history, your story. At the end of the 19th century, Deputy U.S. Marshal Bass Reeves used elaborate disguises

to catch outlaws in Indian territory in present-day Oklahoma. Reeves had been born into slavery, but went on to become one of the first black men to serve as a deputy U.S. Marshal in the West. For three decades, he hunted down murderers, horse thieves, and bootleggers across a vast and remote terrain, resulting in countless dramatic shootouts and hairbreadth escapes. At a time when segregation was taking hold across the south, the West offered a unique opportunity for a man like Reefs. While still facing racial discrimination, he nevertheless became one of the most formidable lawmen in the history of the West, feared by outlaws across Indian territory for his relentless pursuit of

justice and his deadly marksmanship. His career spanned Indian Territory's transition into statehood, a rare period of possibility for a former slave turned cunning lawman. To help tell this story, we've enlisted actor Ace Anderson to voice the characters you'll hear throughout this episode. This is episode three in our five-part series on Frontier Legends, Bass Reeves. Bass Reeves was born enslaved in July 1838 in Arkansas. He adopted the last name of his owner, William Reeves, a farmer and state legislator. When Bass was eight years old, his owner loaded up 30 covered wagons and moved his family and his slaves to northern Texas. As Bass grew older, William Reeves removed him from fieldwork and made him his personal servant. Although he refused to

let Bass learn to read, he trusted him enough to take the unusual step of allowing him to handle firearms, a privilege denied to most enslaved people. Bass quickly proved himself a gifted marksman, and Reeves began entering him into shooting contests. When the Civil War broke out in 1861, William Reeves' son, George, enlisted as a Confederate cavalryman, and he brought 23-year-old Bass with him to the front lines. But one night, a heated argument during a card game ended with Bass knocking George unconscious. Fearing that he could be punished with death for assaulting his owner, Bass fled west to Indian Territory in present-day Oklahoma. Indian territory had been established by the U.S. government in the early 1830s as the final destination for Indian tribes who were being expelled

from their native lands in the South. Around that time, federal officials began forcibly relocating the so-called five civilized tribes, the Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choktaw, Creek, and Seminole, and there, on the Great Plains, each tribe operated as its own nation, with its own government and court systems. And although Indian territory had been set aside for displaced native tribes, slavery was legal within its borders, and by the start of the Civil War, there were roughly 10,000 black people enslaved there. But ironically, Indian Territory also became a haven for fugitive slaves, because slaves owned by members of the five tribes retained more autonomy and faced less violence than those in the southern states. These conditions made for a less

rigid racial order, one that attracted runaway slaves like Reeves. Making the move easier for Reeves, the terrain of Indian Territory was already familiar to him. He'd grown up nearby across the Red River in northern Texas. So after he fled George Reeves, he lived among the Creek and Seminole Indians and learned their languages and customs. For former slaves like Reeves, Indian Territory, and the West more broadly,

offered a unique opportunity for reinvention. In 1864, Reeves, now 26 years old, married a 14-year-old named Jenny. The couple started a family that would eventually include, 11 children. And with the end of the Civil War, Reeves gained his freedom, and he and his growing family settled on a farm near Van Buren, Arkansas, on the eastern border of Indian Territory. Reeves soon began earning money as a scout and tracker, using the knowledge he'd gained while living among native tribes. He later boasted that he knew Indian territory like a cook-nosed-nosed-her

kitchen. But the Indian territory Reeves knew so well was fast becoming one of the most lawless regions in America. While native tribes enforced their own laws with mounted forces known as the Light Horse Police, their jurisdictions were limited to their own people, a legal loophole that non-Indian lawbreakers exploited. But one man resolved to rein in the chaos. In March 1875, a hard-charging judge named Isaac Parker assumed the bench of the federal court at Fort Smith, Arkansas, just across the eastern border of Indian Territory. More than 100 murders had been committed in Indian territory during his predecessor's three-year tenure, and Parker was determined to restore law and order. To that end, he set out to recruit 200 deputy U.S. Marshals, though he only managed

to convince 50 to enlist. This small force would be tasked with curbing crime across 75,000 square miles of rugged frontier. It was an area roughly the same size of all of New England, and it made Fort Smith the largest federal jurisdiction in the U.S. But part of what made the marshal's task so daunting was the complex overlap of federal and tribal jurisdictions. While tribal police handled crimes involving their own citizens, they could not arrest white or black non-citizens who were in Indian territory either as renters of Indian land or intruders. It would be up to the deputy marshals operating out of Fort Smith to handle the prosecution of crimes committed by these non-tribal citizens, as well as crimes committed

by tribal members against non-Indians. But despite the complexity, the marshal Marshalls Parker recruited wasted no time getting to work. They began pursuing suspects for crimes including murder, robbery, and railroad sabotage. But because alcohol was outlawed in Indian territory, 80% of the cases at Ford Smith ended up being liquor-related. So to stem the flow of the illegal booze, marshals targeted the bootleggers who bought whiskey in Arkansas or Texas and smuggle it into the territory, reselling it to Indians for 10 times a price. And in the face of a seemingly endless stream of offenders, Judge Parker said about ruthlessly enforcing the law, believing that the certainty of punishment was key to fighting crime. During his time on the bench, he boasted a 70%

conviction rate, and he would ultimately sentence 160 criminals to death in executions that became public spectacles, earning him the name, the hanging judge. And it was in 1875 that Bass Reeves became one of Parker's first recruits and one of the first black men to wear the Marshal's badge. Thanks to his skill with weapons, his knowledge of Indian languages and his tracking abilities, Reeves was an ideal candidate for the role, and he and Judge Parker bonded over their shared mission. According to Reeves's great nephew, Parker and Reeves developed a very close working relationship in spite of the widely diverse backgrounds, one a slave, one of former congressmen. Instead, it was based upon their overriding sense of duty and responsibility.

His great-nephew credited Reeve's strong Christian faith as the foundation of his moral principles and his dedication to the rule of law. But Reeve stood out among the deputy marshals not just because of his race. At six-foot-two, he cut an imposing figure and was known for his immense strength and booming laugh. He rode a large stallion and carried two cult revolvers on his belt, but his preferred weapon was his Winchester rifle. Still, despite his striking appearance, he couldn't catch dangerous criminals completely on his own. Federal law required Deputy Marshals entering Indian territory to recruit at least one able-bodied man for backup known as a posseman, a roll Reeves himself had started in.

These men assisted more experienced deputies while learning the ropes. And because Deputy Marshals and their possemen often spent months in the saddle pursuing criminals, they traveled with a supply wagon carrying food, equipment, and a cook. This allowed them to stay in the field as long as it took to apprehend suspects before transporting their chained prisoners back to Fort Smith. Reaves was also unusual among deputy marshals because, due to his childhood and slavery, he had never learned to read or write. He was able to memorize and recognize printed names, associating them with certain written documents. But to complete much of the paperwork associated with his role, he was often forced to ride long distances to find

someone who could read aloud or take his dictation. But what he lacked in administrative skills he made up for with his creative approach to catching criminals. To get as close to suspects as possible in order to arrest them, he donned various disguises, often posing as a drifter, cowboy, preacher, or farmer. And in 1883, Reeves used one of these disguises while pursuing a ruthless fugitive named Jim Webb. Webb was the hot-headed foreman of a massive ranch in the Chickasaw Nation, where he ruled over dozens of cowboys with an iron fist. But his temper wasn't just reserved for the men who worked for him. That spring, after a black preacher at a neighboring ranch

ignited a controlled burn that spread to Webb's ranch, Webb rode over and shot the preacher dead. Reeves was alerted to the murder, and a few days later he and a posseman rode to Webb's ranch. The skies as cowboys passing through, they asked Webb for breakfast. It was the custom on the frontier to offer food or lodging to travelers, so Webb reluctantly agreed, but he was immediately suspicious of these two strangers. Imagine it's a spring morning in 1883 on a large ranch in the Chickasaw Nation.

You're a deputy U.S. Marshal disguised as a cowboy, and you're inside a barn feeding your horse while back at the ranch house. The cook prepares breakfast. But you're not really hungry. You're just waiting for the right moment to arrest the ranch's foreman, Jim Webb, who's leaning against a stack of hay bales across from you, watching you closely. Where did you say you came from? A ranch, about 50 miles north of here, owned by a couple of Chickasaw brothers.

You pour a scoop of oats into a wooden trough. As your horse lowers its head to eat, you brush your hand along its neck, wondering how you manage to arrest Webb without someone getting killed or seriously wounded. Webb takes a step forward. And what are you doing down here? Like I said, just passing through. We're on an errand for the ranch boss. man by the name of Keller.

Ever heard of him? Sounds familiar. What sort of errand? He's got us picking up some barbed wire over in Long Grove. I think the price is a better in Ardmore, but he won't be persuaded. You loosen the saddle on your horse, feeling the heat of Webb's gaze. You pull your rifle from the saddle and lean it against a wooden rail, hoping to convince Webb that you mean no harm. So how long have you worked here?

About a year? What's it to you? You're just about to respond when the sound of a bell interrupts you. Is that breakfast already? Sounds like it. Well, then. Lead the way. No, after you.

I insist. You nod uneasily and exit the barn to walk back to the house. But Webb hangs back in the doorway as his right-hand man, a cowboy who introduced himself as Frank Smith approaches. In the reflection of the front window of the house, you can see the two of them whispering. But there's not much you can. do, so you join your posseman on the front steps of the ranch house.

This is going to be our only opportunity. When I give the signal, you jump Smith. I'll take Webb. He nods, and the two of you walk up the steps. Your finger twitches over the revolver on your belt. You know that you're walking on a razor's edge, and that if your timing isn't perfect, both of you will end up dead. Reeves and his posseman joined Jim Webb and his right-hand man, Frank Smith, for a tense

breakfast. After they were done eating, the group went out into the adjoining hallway. Reeves continued making conversation, hoping not to alarm Webb, who was clutching his pistol. But when Webb looked away for just a moment, Reeves knocked Webb's gun out of his hand, drew his own revolver, and jammed it into Webb's face. But the other man, Frank Smith, had the opportunity to fire at Reeves twice. He missed both shots before Reeves dropped him with a single bullet. So with his right-hand man down, Reeves' hand around his throat, Webb surrendered. Reeves hauled both men back to face justice. Along the way, Smith died of his gunshot wound. But over the next year, Webb remained locked behind bars in the federal jail at Fort Smith, awaiting trial for murder. This jail, known as

Hell on the Border, was little more than two cramped basement rooms that held as many as 150 prisoners at a time. Eventually, Webb's friends secured his release on bail. But by the time the trial was set to begin, Webb was nowhere to be found. Determined to finish the job, Reeves swung back into his saddle and began his manhunt. I'm Alice Levine. And I'm Matt Ford and we're the hosts of British Scandal. Yes indeed. In this series, a Derbyshire couple are bored of their curtain twitching lawn mowing suburban life. So they sell their house, build a yacht and sail off around the world. Which sort of sounds idyllic until a sperm whale sinks their boat and they begin to starve. Oh yes, and they didn't bring a radio because real sailors don't use radios.

Right? This is the story of Marilyn and Morris Bailey. And the 117 days they spent lost at sea. Follow British Scandal wherever you get your podcasts or listen early and ad free on Audible. I'm Alice Levine. And I'm Matt Ford and we're the hosts of British Scandal. Yes indeed. In this series, a Derbyshire couple are bored of their curtain twitching lawn mowing suburban life.

So they sell their house, build a yacht and sailor. around the world. Which sort of sounds idyllic until a sperm whale sinks their boat and they begin to starve. Oh yes, and they didn't bring a radio because real sailors don't use radios. Right? This is the story of Marilyn and Morris Bailey. And the 117 days they spent lost at sea. Follow British scandal wherever you get your podcasts or listen early and ad free on Audible. In June 1884, Bass Reeves and a posseman set out from Fort Smith, Arkansas, in pursuit of their fugitive Rancher Jim Webb. He had fled while awaiting trial for the murder of a black preacher,

and after days of hard riding across 200 miles of the Chickasaw Nation, Reeves and his possemen finally caught up with Webb at a general store in the foothills of the Arbuckle Mountains. Reeves's posseman peered through a store window and spotted Webb, then motioned to Reeves. But when Reeves dashed up on horseback moments later, Webb caught sight of him and bolted, leaping through a window on the opposite side of the store.

As Webb ran for his horse, Reeves whipped around and cut him off. Webb sprinted toward a clump of bushes, then turned around and opened fire on Reeves. Reeves later recalled, before I could drop off my horse, his first bullet cut off a button of my coat. His second shot cut my bridle rein into. So quickly, Reeves slid down from his saddle, steadied his Winchester rifle, and pulled the trigger twice. Both shots hit their mark, and Webb fell to the ground. Onlookers watched as Reeves approached the dying man, who reportedly told him, I want you to accept my revolver as a present. With it, I've killed 11 men, four of them in Indian

territory, and I expected you to be the 12th. Reeves had skillfully taken down his suspect. But by killing Webb, he had lost any chance of earning a fee for his capture. Deputy marshals like Reeves were paid through a fee system instead of an annual salary, earning money only when they successfully served papers or delivered prisoners to court. But the prisoners had to be alive. That was usually not a problem. At a time when the typical deputy marshal earned roughly $500 a year, Reeves earned an average of $3,000 to $4,000 due to his frequent arrests,

making him one of the highest paid deputies in the Fort Smith Court. And while Reeves preferred to make arrests without drawing his gun, he was not above using lethal force when fugitives resisted, or when his own life was at risk. So although he would receive no payment for killing Webb, he took comfort that there was one less dangerous outlaw roaming Indian territory. And the arrests kept coming. Two months after he shot and killed Webb,

Reeves brought 15 prisoners to Fort Smith. One of them was the notorious outlaw Chubb Moore, a Chickasaw Indian accused of inciting a lynch mob against a black man. It was a rare instance of a black law enforcement officer arresting a suspect for the crime of lynching, an outcome virtually unthinkable anywhere outside of Indian territory. And by September 1885, Reeves' reputation loomed large enough that the infamous outlaw Bell Star, one of the most notorious women in the West, voluntarily surrendered at Fort Smith after hearing that Reeves had a warrant for her arrest. It was the only time she ever

turned herself in. But as Bass Reeves' legend grew, he began to face scrutiny. In the fall of 1880s, following the election of Democratic President Grover Cleveland, the Republican U.S. Marshal overseeing Reeves' district was removed from office. He was replaced by John Carroll, a Democrat and former Confederate officer, who soon began investigating an old incident involving Reeves. Back in the spring of 1884, Reeves had been traveling to Fort Smith with a wagon-load of prisoners when one evening he discharged his rifle beside a campfire. The bullet from the rifle struck a black cook named William Reve's.

Leach in the neck. Soon after, Leach died from his wound. The shooting was deemed an accident until January 1886 when Carol suddenly reopened the investigation. Imagine it's January 1886, a bitterly cold morning in Van Buren, Arkansas. You're a deputy U.S. Marshal, and you're trudging up the icy front steps to a small farmhouse. With a deep sigh, you knock on the front door. You shift uneasily from one foot to the other until finally the door swings open. and your fellow deputy Bass Reeves appears in the doorway. He tilts his head in surprise. Good morning. Morning, Bass.

Well, come on in. Jenny just put on a pot of coffee. That's all right. I'm afraid I'm not here for a social visit. You pull a piece of paper out of your coat. Recognition dawns on Reeves' face as he takes in the familiar seal in the corner. What do you have there? There's no easy way to say this.

It's a warrant for your face. arrest, Bass. My arrest? I don't understand. You've been charged with the murder of William Leach and the Chickasaw Nation in April 1884. This must be some sort of mistake. That was nearly two years ago, and it was all cleared up. Leach's death was an accident. The new marshal in charge doesn't see it that way. Did you say I'm being brought in for murder? You nod and read from the warrant in your hands. It says Bass Reeves in the Indian country, within the Western District of Arkansas, on or about the 10th day of April 1884, did feloniously, willfully, and premeditatively, kill and murder William Leach. Hold on, there was no premeditation about it. My gun went off

accidentally. Well, why not a manslaughter charge? And why is all this happening now? I don't know. And I'm sorry, but you're being dismissed from the Marshal Service, and I'm going to have to bring you in. Reeves' wife emerges from the kitchen, her expression filled with concern. Reeves glances back toward her. Don't worry, honey. I'm going to straighten everything out. Then he turns back to you. You're not going to cuff me, are you? I'd rather not.

Reeves grabs his hat from a hook beside the door and instinctively reaches for his badge and pistol before thinking better of it. He shakes his head as he follows you out the door. He may not realize it yet, but you're almost certain that Reeves will never wear the badge again. In January 1886, Reeves was charged with the murder of the posse cook William Leach. He was placed in federal jail at Fort Smith, held behind the same bars where he had sent his own prisoners. U.S. Marshal John Carroll never gave a reason for reopening the investigation into Leach's death, which led to many suspecting the decision was racially or politically motivated. But others took the opportunity to vilify

America's most famous black lawman. A Little Rock, Arkansas newspaper, declared that Reeves was in league with some of the worst cutthroats and outlaws in Indian country. His hometown newspaper in Van Buren, Arkansas, concluded that he had carried out a foul murder, committed in pure wantonness. And the paper also took the opportunity to slander Reeves' character, accusing him of extorting small sums of money from prisoners,

and having made an insulting proposal to a white woman, a familiar accusation often leveled against black men in the Jim Crow South. Several months passed before Reeves managed to pay the $3,000 bond securing his release from jail while awaiting trial. And while the proceedings move forward, a white juror named A.J. Boyd confronted him in the streets of Fort Smith. He tapped Reeves on the shoulder with his walking cane and began aggressively questioning him about the case.

According to Reeves, when he refused to discused, discuss the charges. Boyd threatened his life, declaring, Yes, I am a juryman, and if you want to save your neck, you'd better make a statement to me, you damn black son of a bitch. I'm just as certain to break your neck as I have this cane in my hand. Me and three others have got it in for you. Reeves reported this incident, and Boyd was ordered to appear before Judge Isaac Parker, the same judge who had recruited Reeves into the Marshal Service and was now tasked with overseeing his trial. Boyd insisted that he was drunk and had no memory of the confrontation, but Parker declared him guilty of contempt of court and

dismissed him from the jury. More than a year went by before Reeves' trial finally began in October 1887. Under the watchful eye of Judge Parker, prosecutors called 11 witnesses to the stand, nine of whom had been arrested by Reeves himself for criminal offenses. The prosecution's case relied heavily on the testimony of two witnesses who declared that Reeves intentionally shot Leach during a heated argument over the Cook's dog. But upon cross-examination, one of the witnesses admitted that Reeves and Leach appeared friendly before the shooting, and that afterwards, Reeves tended to Leach's wounds. And when Reeves took the witness stand, he insisted that the shooting had been accidental.

He testified that while he had indeed argued with Leach, nothing had come of it, and he explained that the shooting occurred when he was clearing a jammed cartridge in his Winchester rifle. The gun accidentally discharged, striking Leach in the neck. He sent for a dog, and he sent for a doctor, but Leach died before help arrived. The defense based their case on Reeves' lack of clear motive and his efforts to find medical help. The lawyers also called witnesses who testified to Reeves' strong character and exemplary record of service. After four days of testimony, the jury declared Reeves not guilty. But his life would never be the same. He'd been out of work for nearly two years, and between that and legal expenses, he had depleted his life savings. He was forced to sell

his home in Van Buren and move his family to a smaller house on the outskirts of Fort Smith. And despite his high earnings in the years leading up to the trial, he would never recover financially. But he was reinstated as a deputy U.S. Marshal, and soon he was back in the saddle tracking horse thieves, murderers, and fugitives across Indian territory. He was as fearsome as ever, but the world he was policing was fast-changing. In 1887, to encourage Indian assimilation into white society through farming and land ownership, Congress began carving up Indian Territory by passing the Dawes Severalty Act. This act divided communal tribal land into individual 160-acre plots. While the act was intended to deed land to citizens of Indian territory,

surplus plots were open to non-natives. So in 1889, the first white and black settlers were allowed onto the western part of Indian territory, sparking a land rush. Tens of thousands of people, raised to claim plots, and new towns sprang up virtually overnight. As this influx of white and black settlers flooded the region, Indian territory began to lose its status as a refuge for displaced Indians and former slaves, and soon, Asse Reeves confronted the dawning of a new era of chaos, crime, and racial conflict. During World War II, New York communist Julius Rosenberg began spying for the Soviet Union. Soon he was persuading other Americans to betray their country.

country as well. But when his wife's brother joined the Manhattan Project, Julius targeted him as a valuable new recruit and inadvertently set the stage for the ultimate betrayal. Hi, I'm Lindsay Graham, host of Audubles' original show American Scandal. We bring to life some of the biggest controversies in U.S. history, presidential lies, environmental disasters, corporate fraud. In our latest series, two young New Yorkers meet and fall in love. Julius and Ethel Rosenberg's commitment to each other is matched only by their commitment to communist. and the couple risks everything to help the Soviet Union develop an atomic bomb. But when they're uncovered, they have to make an impossible choice about where their loyalty truly lies.

Follow American Scandal wherever you get your podcasts. Audible subscribers can listen to all episodes of American Scandal, the Rosenberg's, ad-free right now. Join Audible today by downloading the Audible app. Hey, Dan Tiberski here. I'm a podcast host, a journalist, and now with my newest project, the author of my own manifesto. Well, it's a manifesto about manifestos. My search for inspiration in a world that feels more infuriating, more out of its freaking mind with each passing hour. Manifestos are a call to action, an artful scream.

They capture our anger and they try to do something with it. This is my attempt to take the manifesto back from mass shooters and nihilists and return it to its rightful place with the warriors, the visionaries, the regular folks with just the right amount of crazy. I compare notes with radicals, secessionists, internet trolls out for a laugh, and punk singers screaming their guts out, all trying to turn their anger into the world they want to see. Listen to Manifesto wherever you get your podcasts. Audible subscribers can binge all episodes of Manifesto early and ad-free right now. Join Audible in the Audible app or by subscribing on Apple Podcasts. In May 1890, in the wake of the frenzied 1889 Land Rush, Congress officially organized the western half of Indian Territory.

into what it called the Oklahoma Territory. The eastern half remained Indian territory under the domain of the five tribes. But before long, competing laws in the two territories fostered chaos on the border. While alcohol was banned in Indian territory under federal law, Oklahoma Territory permitted it. Saloon towns quickly sprang up on the border, with one settler recalling how they were filled with gamblers, bootleggers, killers, and any kind of outcast. Bass Reeves, now in his early 50s, was cross-deputized to work under federal jurisdiction in both territories,

where he faced the challenge of maintaining law and order across an increasingly volatile frontier. Nevertheless, he fearlessly patrolled the corner. This was one of the most notorious border towns, just across from the Seminol and Chickasaw Nations, where the ground was often littered with empty cartridge shells. On one occasion, Reeves killed a young gunslinger who challenged him to a saloon fight and wounded Reeves in the leg. When a doctor arrived on the scene and asked Reeves what had happened,

Reeves replied, he was real fast, but like a lot of them, he couldn't shoot both fast and straight. In this period of change, as a black marshal pursuing white outlaws, Reeves was forced to carefully navigate the racial dynamics that shaped every arrest and confrontation. During one tense encounter inside a Tulsa General store, Reeves persuaded an armed white criminal to surrender his guns without bloodshed by calmly telling him, you are a white man and I am a negro. White men do not like to give up to a negro. Then, rather than take the guns himself,

Reeves asked the man to give them up to the white owner of the general store, declaring, when you're ready to leave town, he'll give them back to you. The outlaw complied. During this period, using tactics that he'd honed over more than a decade as a marshal, Reeves captured some of the most notorious outlaws in the region. Stories of his exploit spread throughout the frontier. And in June 1891, a Texas newspaper editor declared him the most successful marshal that rides in the Indian country. While the editor also included racist descriptions of his appearance,

he affirmed that Reeves was a holy terror to the lawless characters in the West. In the late 1890s, Reeves was reassigned to the Northern District of Indian Territory, and he and his family moved to the town of Muskogee. As Congress continued breaking up Indian territory, non-native settlements surged, and Reeves's duties shifted. He spent less time chasing fugitives across the prairie and more time policing rapidly growing towns where white settlers clashed with black pioneers.

In May 1902, he and a fellow deputy arrested 15 white men and nine black men accused of taking part in a so-called race war in the nearby town of Braggs. Racial prejudice was an inescapable part of Reeves' job, so whenever he could, he avoided entanglement with white suspects, choosing to focus his efforts on black and Native American criminals. He sometimes struggled to find white men to work with him, too. And when he tried to hire one resident as a guard in his posse,

the man refused, explaining that he didn't think a white man should work for a Negro. But in 1902, Reeves was placed in his most painful position yet, when his duty as a lawman collided with his duty as a father. Imagine it's June 1902. You're the chief U.S. Marshal and Indian territory, and you're sitting in your office in Muskogee, catching up on paperwork. For two days, a warrant for the arrest of Benjamin Reeves, a 21-year-old son of Deputy Marshares, has sat on your desk.

You know you need to bring Benjamin in, but you also know that none of your deputies want to go after the son of a man as well-liked as Reeves. So you're caught a little flat-footed when the elder Reeves enters your office. Afternoon, Marshal, you busy? I've got some new information on the Delaney gang. those cattle thieves terrorizing the creeks. The witness saw them hold up a stagecoach two days ago. Why don't you sit down, Reeves?

You gesture to the seat across from your desk, but he ignores your request. What is it? It's about Benjamin. You see, I'm afraid he shot and killed his wife. He's been charged with murder. He's a fugitive somewhere in the territory. Reeves' eyes blink rapidly as he processes this news. You've never seen him so shaken. You avert your gaze, staring down at the arrest warrant on your desk.

Of course you understand that we'll need to make an arrest. Reeves takes a step forward, his posture stiffening. Give me the warn. What, no, I'll have another deputy go after Benjamin. You need to go home. Go be with your family. It's my son you won't. And it's my responsibility to bring him in.

You don't have to do this. Yes, I do. No one expects you to arrest your own son. We all understand that family comes first. But see, that's where you're wrong. Nothing comes before the law. Now give me the warrant. I'll bring him in.

Reeves takes the arrest warrant from your desk and stares at the name on it, shaking his head in disbelief. You'll almost reach back for it. But truth be told, you're relieved you won't have to assign the job to someone else. Without another word, Reeves walked out of your office, clearly determined to honor his commitment to the badge. When Bass Reeves learned that a warrant had been issued for his son, he insisted on making the arrest himself,

causing the local newspaper to commend Reeves' devotion to duty above all else. After he was brought in, Benjamin Reeves was tried and sentenced to life in prison. But Benjamin's imprisonment was not the first hardship to strike the Reeves family. Two of Reeves' sons had already found themselves on the wrong side of the law, sentenced to prison for perjury. By 1903, his eldest son had been killed in a railway accident, and his wife, Jenny, and two other sons had died of disease. Despite this string of personal tragedies, though, by the time Reeves was in his late 60s, he was still a formidable force in Muskogee. And in March 1907, he received national attention when the Washington Post profiled him,

crediting him for acting as a potent element and bringing two territories out of the reign of the outlaw, the horse thief and bootleger. But only a few months later, political forces brought Reeves' long career to an end. In November 1907, the Oklahoma and Indian territories merged, becoming the state of Oklahoma. With state officers assuming responsibility for law enforcement, there was no longer a need for a large federal police force, and Reeves found himself out of a job. Additionally, after statehood, Jim Crow's segregation took hold in Oklahoma. Black men were relegated to serving a so-called Negro police restricted to only arresting black citizens. Reeves took a job with the Muskogee City Police,

patrolling black neighborhoods with a cane, still limping from the border saloon gunfight years earlier. And it wasn't long before his overall health began to fail. On January 10, 1910, Reaves died from a kidney condition at the age of 71. Obituaries chronicled his remarkable 32-year career in the Marshal Service, reporting that he brought more than 3,000 fugitives to justice. The Muskogee Phoenix declared, Black-skinned, illiterate, and the offspring of slaves,

Bass Reeves was a unique character, absolutely fearless, and knowing no master but duty, the placing of a writ in his hands meant that the letter of the law would be fulfilled. He offered a lesson in courage, honesty, and faithfulness to official duty. Bass Reeves emerged from a life in slavery to become one of the most famous black lawmen of the West, on a frontier that offered a unique opportunity to a man of his race.

Committed to making Indian territory safe, he navigated a complicated racial landscape with courage and coming. In the decades after his death, his exploits were overlooked in tales of the West that focused on white cowboys and gunslingers. But during his lifetime, his name carried weight across the Indian territory, striking fear in the hearts of outlaws

and earning him the respect of his fellow lawmen. His legacy reflects a history of the West that was far more diverse and complex than most popular legends had been. From Audible Originals, this is episode three of our five-part series on Frontier Legends for American History Tellers. On the next episode, after earning a fearsome reputation as the mastermind of a gang of outlaws known as the Wildbunch, Butch Cassidy leads Lawman on an international manhunt to find him and his partner, The Sundance Kid. Follow American History Tellers on the Audible app or wherever you get your podcasts.

You can listen to all episodes of American History Tellers ad-free by joining Audible. And to find out more about me and my other projects, including my live stage show coming to a theater near you, go to not-that-lindsaygram.com. That's not-that-lindsaygram.com. If you'd like to learn more about the life of Bass Reeves, we recommend Black Gun, Silver Star, the life and legend of frontier marshal bass reefs by R.T. Burton. American History Tellers is hosted, edited, and produced by me, Lindsay Graham for Airship. This episode is written by L. Stanton, edited by Dorian Marina,

senior producers Alita Rizanski and Andy Herman, managing producer Desi Blaylock, voice acting by Ace Anderson, audio editing by Mohamed Shazi, music by Throne, sound design by Molly Bach, executive producer for Audible, Jenny Lauer Beckman,

head of creative development at audible, Kate Navin, head of Audible Originals, North America, Marsha Louis, chief content officer Rachel Giazza. Copyright 2026 by Audible Originals LLC, Sound Recording Copyright 2026 by Audible Originals LLC.