Timesuck with Dan Cummins - 300 - Bass Reeves on Acid: Trippin’ in the Wild West

Episode Date: June 13, 2022

LSD is a powerful, mind-bending drug. Only a crazy person would try and tell a coherent and compelling two-hour-plus historical narrative while frying their brain on the equivalent of four hits of acid. And well... I am that crazy person. Today, to celebrate the 300th episode of Timesuck, I try and pull this story off immediately after dropping two double-hits of LSD. And things get.... weird. Also, what an amazing story! Bass Reeves' name and story are finally getting more exposure and it's about damn time! There's a good reason some people think Bass is the real-life inspiration for the Lone Ranger. This guy was a borderline superhero. Quick on the draw, fearless, and possession a relentless sense of justice, if you were and outlaw and Bass had ahold of your warrant.... you were as good as caught. Or as good as dead. The man was like a Wild West Boba Fett. He was the best at one of the hardest jobs in the Wild West  - a Deputy Marshal tracking down wanted men - and the occasional wanted woman - in Indian Territory, an especially lawless land that sat where present day Oklahoma now stands. Adventure awaits in today's yip, yip, yaw episode of Timesuck. Bad Magic Productions Monthly Patreon Donation:  The Bad Magic Charity for June is The Rainbow Railroad. We're donating a TBD amount. Founded in 2006, the Rainbow Railroad  assists LGBTQI+ people who face persecution because of their sexual orientation and gender identity. Rainbow Railroad's main goal is to help those who are in danger by relocating them to a safer country or a safe house. To get involved, learn more, or request help - go to rainbowrailroad.org TICKETS FOR HOT WET BAD MAGIC SUMMER CAMP!  Go to www.badmagicmerch.comWatch the Suck on YouTube: https://youtu.be/F141Eiva4zcMerch: https://www.badmagicmerch.comDiscord! https://discord.gg/tqzH89vWant to join the Cult of the Curious private Facebook Group? Go directly to Facebook and search for "Cult of the Curious" in order to locate whatever happens to be our most current page :)For all merch related questions/problems: [e-mail] (copy and paste)Please rate and subscribe on iTunes and elsewhere and follow the suck on social media!! @timesuckpodcast on IG and http://www.facebook.com/timesuckpodcastWanna become a Space Lizard?  Click here: https://www.patreon.com/timesuckpodcastSign up through Patreon and for $5 a month you get to listen to the Secret Suck, which will drop Thursdays at Noon, PST. You'll also get 20% off of all regular Timesuck merch PLUS access to exclusive Space Lizard merch. You get to vote on two Monday topics each month via the app. And you get the download link for my new comedy album, Feel the Heat. Check the Patreon posts to find out how to download the new album and take advantage of other benefits.

Imagine your life is that of a law man in the 19th century, tracking down the outlaws who've polluted the land of what was called the Indian territory. Your tools of the trade consist of your trusty horse, maybe a dog, a wagon that holds supplies like bacon, coffee and blankets, plus a trusty pistol or two, a rifle, maybe a shotgun. Your mission is to bring in a number of outlaws that range from horse thieves and bootlegers to bank robbers and murderers. Your posse may include one or two other armed guards and a cook. The terrain is dangerous and filled with all kinds of hazards, rattlesnakes, mountain lions, bandits who have no interest in being taken in dead or alive, who will kill to stay free, no clean water, whether they can freeze you

to death or bake and dehydrate you. The job wasn't an easy one, there's just anyone could do. And this tough job was even tougher for a man like Bass Reeves, who despite his incredible skills and reputation was a black man and former slave, working in a very volatile period of racial history. He began his law enforcement career just a decade after the end of the Civil War, and then he would work during an era of forced Native American removal. In era when three races were all trying to figure out how to live together, but only one, white Europeans decided what the rules rules of the cohabitation were going to

be. Despite this, Reeves would thrive as a law enforcement officer, possibly if not probably making more money from his bounties than any of his peers. Said the bass killed at least 14, maybe as many as 20 outlaws over a 30-year career, he was involved in a number of shootouts, sometimes going up against multiple armed men, but he was never injured while arresting over 3000 criminals. Maybe he was possibly shot in a shootout with gunslinger, but he won that shootout and basically just walked it off. And he might not have been trying to arrest that man, sometimes shootouts could just spring up over a card game or an insult, real or perceived. He's

often remembered as having almost superhuman strength, unparalleled shooting and horsemanship skills, and an unrivaled sense of duty, even tracking down and arresting his own son when his son was charged with murder. Art T. Burton, a history professor and leading the Thorntey on Reaves, said of this wild west legend, to me, Bass Reaves is the greatest frontier hero in American history, Bar None. I don't know who you could compare him to. This guy walked in the Valley of Death every day for 32 years and came out alive. Recently many including Burton have said Reaves was such an incredible law man that he was perhaps the inspiration for the popular fictional character, the lone ranger.

Is there any evidence for that? We'll investigate that claim today. And why has Reeves been largely forgotten by history? The short answer is because of his race, but now that's changing as you'll see. We're talking about him today and you might be having quite the pop culture resurgence coming around the corner. Today we're gonna learn about the life and times and one of the greatest and sadly most forgotten

law man of the old west, best Reeves on another wild west, yeah, yeah, addition of time suck. This is Michael yeah, yeah, addition of Time Suck. This is Michael McDonald and you're listening to Time Suck. You're listening to Time Suck. Happy Monday, Meet Sacks, episode 300 of the Cult of Curious. Holy shit, the 300th consecutive Monday of Time Suck. Start with no Nimrod, no Lucifina, no Bojangles, no Triple M, no recording studio, no bad magic productions, no team, no Whipple even, just a weirdo and a strange dream.

And hot damn, is that dream come true and then some. Time Suck is taking me from being on the brink of possibly being done with the career and entertainment to having a more successful career than I did back when I was doing the tonight's show and comedy central specials and all the shit I thought I had to do to find an audience. And to be able to do this from Cordelaine Idaho, what a ride you beautiful bastards. To support so many of you who have given me this podcast, to change my life forever, change my family's lives on so many ways. I truly can't thank you enough

It's been so cool to be able to watch my wife Lindsay go from walking away from a successful career and film and TV costume department production work To doing the right thing for the kids coming up here to Idaho Right, and then worrying how the hell that was gonna work out to start off as one of this area is rising realtor stars Then walking away again from that to run bad magic productions with me, be my scared of death co-host, wondering again how it was all gonna work out, and then it did all work out. She certainly never thought that moving from LA to CDA

would open up the door to her having her own fans and being able to hire her mom to help with a scholarship foundation among other wonderful things. Never thought we'd be able to raise with your help coming on half a million dollars for a variety of wonderful charities And despite not having any time the past two years to really focus on marketing Like I did the first few years audience still growing bigger than ever more people coming out to stand up show

It's an ever to quote a running gag from scared to death. It's been wild cool and interesting and Feeling very grateful. So hail fucking them rod hail loose with fena praiseable jangles glory be to triple M I hope to continue to tell interesting stories and ways you find entertaining for many years to come. A hundred episodes of Is We Dumb, Close Anyway, you get it. Almost 150 episodes and counting the scared of death. Over 200 episodes of the secret song, Well Over. And now this, may the gods of the suck keep the double tab

of LSD, actually the two double tabs of LSD. I ingested a few of his back from rooting today's show. I don't care if the walls bend. I don't care if I even get a little confused as to who I am or what I'm doing to some degree for the next several hours. I just want the screen in front of me with my notes to melt so much that it's impossible to read. Lindsay can help with the end, if need be.

I'm actually able to drink this fuck suck. I just wanna forget that I'm supposed to be doing a podcast. First the drunkest fuck suck hundredth episode, then the shroomed and doomed 200th suck and now tripping in the wild west. Nice celebration and come on, great excuse to drop some acid. I'm doing it for work. And don't worry, the kids with their mom and stepdad today. So when I see them next, I'll just be the same weirdo that they're used to.

And Lindsay will make sure that I don't run out into traffic today. And hopefully it works. You never know. I think it's going to work. Hopefully it doesn't work too well. Fingers crossed. I should kick in anywhere from 30 to 90 minutes into the show. I did it right before we started recording. Don't expect me to get too weird in the first half. If that happens, oh boy, this recording is doomed. And I might just have to record most of it again tomorrow. A couple quick announcements then, Wild West, here we come. How's this going to go? No tour dates to announce this episode.

A bunch of fall dates up at dncomans.tv, but I will be off for the summer. Thanks everyone who came out to shows this past year, hoping Davenport and Chicago were both fun this past weekend. Milwaukee was so much fun, especially Saturday night. Even the late show with my front row co-host, Christian. If you're at that show, you know what I'm talking about. And if you are Christian, you know what, I hope you made a home safe buddy. All good, dude. Just looking really nice guys. It should happen. Got some killer new merch in the bad magic store this week. Been a while since we dropped a sticker dump. Got a bunch of those to choose from now.

Albert's peanut butter restock, Bad Magician sticker design, 1-800-business, strong Russian pony boy, a space lizard exclusive and more. You can head to badmagicmerch.com and look through the sticker bin. Also a cool new cult key chain and button available. So check that out.

And one last quick announcement. Bad Magger Sharedy the Month is still the rainbow railroad.org. We're donating $14,795. This wonderful group. This group founded in 2006, assists LGBTQI plus people who face persecution because of their sexual orientation and gender identity. They helped those whom are in danger by relocating them to a safer country or to a safer house. To learn more or to request help, please go to rainbowrailroad.org. Also able to donate 16.43 to the future common scholarship fund that will be accepting applications from bad magicians in 2023.

And now, mount up regulators! It's fucking ride. Bass Reeves has recently emerged from the shadows of stories of the old West almost exclusively white gunslingers and has been elevated to the highest pantheon of Wild West Laman. And for good reason, he's about as bad ass as bad ass can be. Unfortunately, as is the case for almost all legends of the Wild West, as we've learned time and time again here on TimeSuck, solid info on the man is hard to come by. America's Wild West was an era of crazy ass, totally true stories, also legend building

and myth making, taking the real deeds of real gunslingers, then ratcheting up the reality little past truth, sometimes a lot past truth, to the level of superhuman or super villain lore to sell more newspapers and pulp fiction, dime novels, etc. Make better stories around the campfire. Biographer Art Burton wrote in his book, Black Gun, Silver Star, The Best Source Out there on Reeves from what we can tell, that the research on bass Reeves has not been easy to obtain. One of the first responses I received from a local town, historical society, and Oklahoma, after inquiring about Reeves was, I'm sorry, we didn't keep Black people's history. So what is shame? Hard enough to find good sources for white gunslingers,

you know, that they did write about. Even harder to put together all the pieces of the bass Reeves puzzle. Due to the discriminatory practices in the 20th century, not much African American history was retained in the towns, you know, after the Wild West kind of was over. Historians, now think the best was not a racial anomaly that upwards of 25% of cowboys in the 19th century were black. We just have rarely heard about them. That number definitely not what I would have guessed growing up because all the old westerns I watched as a kid and I love westerns, almost exclusively cast White Dudes,

even a lot of the American Indians and the old movies and TV shows, also White Dudes, or White Ladies. I don't think that any cowboys were black. That was an image that I just, you know, rarely, if ever saw. Luckily, Burton was able to track down a lot of good info and reefs. Plenty for a great tale today.

His work, again, our best source. Many of the sources we've found, but not all also list him as a source. His work again our best source. Many of the sources we found, but not all also list him as a source. So thank you, Art Burton. And why do I bring this all up? Well, I just want to let you know that the facts of today's suck aren't as consistently dependable as they are with many other episodes. Some of the action sequences Reeves was involved in, read like a screenplay from a Hollywood Western. And that may be because, you know, because they were a bit scripted, bit, bit embellished. Good wild West tails often end up being like, uh, good fishing tails. You know, that 16 inch rainbow trout that someone, uh, took about 60 seconds to

reel in after kind of putting up a fight becomes after a few years, a few dozen tellings, you know, 24 inch rainbow took 10, maybe even 20, 30 minutes to reel in. Damn, there's snapped your pole and half tipped over your boat. It fought so hard minutes to reel in. Damn, you're snapped, you're pulling half. Tipped over your boat, it fought so hard. Trophy fish. The fishing story still based in facts, right? Someone catches a fish, but not quite as the story was told. Details exaggerated to make the story more compelling.

Same shit with gunslinger tails. No one seems to doubt that Reeves did kill many a man while collecting bounties that he was. A badass, no one seems to doubt that he likely arrested more men than any other lawmen of his era. The reality itself truly awe inspiring that being said exactly how he arrested men, exactly how many he killed, how many he arrested, likely some hyperbole thrown in there to make the stories more fun.

Now that I've said all that, I'll turn it to bring it up again and just treat the source info going forward as factual. More fun just to enjoy the story that way. And what a story this is today. I wish I could morph into Sam Elliott to narrate this tale, my favorite voice for Westerns. Bass Reeves, you know, that was a man. They don't make him like that anymore.

I'm not sure they made him that way before. Pull a stool up to the bar and grab a tall drink and hear a tale taller than any you ever did here before. We'll start with just a bit of background info on the Cowboys in the Indian Territory. Then we'll address the new theory that Reeves was actually the inspiration for the popular fictional character known as the Lone Ranger. From there, we get to know Reeves and his legendary deeds to the lens of our funny shit planking and planking Time suck timeline So what region Reeves was so what region was Reeves responsible for policing

Indian territory About the Indian territory established in 1819 it was said There is no law west to st. Louis and no god west of Fort Smith That's great fucking line Someone's proud of themselves when they came up with that one. Again, I can I can hear Sam Elliott say that one. There's no law. Wester Sien Lewis or no God. Wester Fort Smith. During the late 19th century, no area in the US was a haven and a refuge for criminals quite like the Indian territory was.

The land that roughly would later become Oklahoma. Most of the Eastern Oklahoma still belongs to various tribes. The Indian territory and the Indian territories are terms that can be a little confusing. They generally describe what was an evolving land area set aside by the US government for the relocation of Native Americans who held aboriginal title to the land as a sovereign independent state. In general, the tribes seated land they occupied in exchange for new land grants in present day Oklahoma in 1803. Prior to May 2nd, 1890, the territory contained 44,144,240 acres or almost 69,000 square miles. A lot of land for a small group of government agents to try and establish some law and order in.

The Indian Territory was originally the domain of the so-called five civilized tribes, Cherokee, Choktaw, Chikasaw, Creek, and Seminole. We talked about this in the Trail of Tears Suck episode 246 and much more depth than I'll do here today. There wasn't an official count of the area's population until 1890 when it was estimated that there was something like There wasn't an official count of the area's population until 1890 when it was estimated that there was something like a 180,000 natives live in there 1890 was the year the Oklahoma territory was established It comprised the western half of present-day Oklahoma state Whole bunch of treaties were violated to make that happen native land was once again opened up to settlement for American citizens

Because of this by 1900 the area's population more than doubled to 391,960 people of all races. And as you can, you know, imagine tension in the area more than doubled as well. A lot of people looking to establish themselves as new land owners coming into conflict with a lot of people whose land was just stolen. Again, not the ideal way for new neighbors to introduce themselves into the neighborhood, a lot of violent crime ensued and got a lot trickier when it came to who should be enforced in the laws that's rapidly changing and developing land. Especially in what's now a Eastern Oklahoma state, which was still Indian territory after 1890. Tribes in the territory had their own highly regarded police force called

Light Horse Police, but treaties prohibited them from arresting any criminals who weren't citizens of their Indian nations. You can see others created a less than ideal situation for both law-abiding citizens and law enforcement. I can't believe no one anticipated that being a wee bit of a problem. But Senator, if we are not going to police to Indian territory, they also won't let tribal law enforcement arrest anyone not from the tribe residing there. Will that not allow non-tribal criminals to commit any and all crimes they want? Then I reckon just hide out in that territory and evade capture. Public cock, make clear your name, Ramblin's son. I finally decided I thought it laid out the problem pretty concisely.

Allow me to attempt to convey my issue again. I feel we should allow tribal police to arrest non-triple criminals on their own land. Otherwise, are we not encouraging outlaws to raise hell there? Or at least hide there once they've raised hell on US soil? I'm bolder than speak plainly son. I simply cannot understand what you take issue with. Oh, for fuck's sake, Senator! The shit you are doing is really fucking stupid, you dumb prick.

A lot of people are gonna be needlessly hurt and property, needlessly damaged and or stolen, because criminals are be given a free fucking pass in this scenario to fuck shit up on the reservations, or at least hide there after fucking shit up elsewhere. Thanks to you and other Capitol Hill dickweeds. Is that clear enough for you ignorant twa? I will not be spoken to in that manner, son. Take your confusing words, and you'll feel the tongue out of my present post-aft Obviously the situation enticed some of the worst criminals in all the West to take up residence in Indian territory pretty fucking sweet gig for them

The US Attorney General in 1888 officially estimated that of 20,000 white persons residing in Indian territory at that time only 5,000 We're law-biting That's a That's a lot outlaws of some kind or another. Clearly there was a need for strong men like bass reaves. The jurisdiction of this territory fell to the US court for Western Arkansas, located at Fort Smith. That place from the quote where where God's dominion stopped. Fort Smith, the frontier town, was located on the eastern border of Indian territory. I've never been there, but did some searching online

and it looks cute as shit. Bigger than I expected. About 280,000 people in the metro area now. About 115 miles east of Tulsa. We bit smaller back in Reeves day, just a few thousand when he first moved there. Which was actually pretty big for a frontier town. The court there was the largest federal court

and US history covering over 75,000 square miles. In 1875, Judge Isaac C. Parker was given the difficult task of cleaning up the territory by President E. Lissus Grant. He later become known as the hanging judge. He'd have 85 men sentenced to death. Some sources say 160, sorry, 88 men. Some sources say 160. About 79 of them would hang. I

Think 79 of eight outsources. He'd also be a great personal friend of bass reefs Parker authorized the hiring of 200 deputy US marshals to sweep over the territory and arrest the felons and fugitives that he would judge in court Fortsmith fed a court never hired that many deputies to work though authorized but never implemented usually only between 20 and 30 deputies to work though, authorized, but never implemented, usually only between 20 and 30 deputies any one time. It was a very dangerous job and not a lot of widespread interest for it. Fort Smith deputies, you know, brave or crazy enough to take the position, will be tasked with arresting the black and white men of the Indian territory or any native that killed

a black or white man in the region. And one of the first of the deputies hired by Judge Parker's court was Bass motherfucking reefs. One of the first African-American law men in US history often said is the first west of the Mississippi. He proved to be their best hire. He dressed so many men with little to no help in many cases. Seems so impervious to harm, borderline, superhuman that recently some have begun to think he

was the real life lone ranger. So let's look into that claim. Right after a quick bonus, little sponsor break, I am contractually obligated to mention when I mention the loan ranger, since they both use the same portion of the William Tell overture for their theme music. Today's episode of Time Suck is brought to you by Captain Whiskorhorns, Pony Play and Poryom, Tech Shop and Saddleery. is brought to you by Captain Wickerhorns, Pony Play, and Poryom, Tax Shop, and Sattlery. Hi, everybody, partners and ponies.

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Hi, all staff, we're in a, away! So there's that, yeah? Sorry, that was probably really confusing. It's a lot of you. Have really had them on as a sponsor for quite some time, probably over a year. They're one of my favorite so. Back to our actual narrative now.

Was Bass Reeves, it's getting this weird, and nothing's even kicked in yet was bass Reeves the inspiration for the popular of fictional character known as the lone ranger if you put bass Reeves into the old Google machine. This association is one of the first things to pop up CNN has a headline from 2013 that reads was an African American cop the real lone ranger history.com has a 2018 headline that reads similarly, was the real-lone ranger

a black man. There's a handful of other articles and documentaries asking the same question. To try and answer it, let's first get an idea of the lone ranger character. Lone Ranger was a fictional mass renegade law man, the American West, former Texas Ranger, created for American radio and TV programs, books, films, and comics. The basic story of the lone ranger exists. The main character, books, films, and comics. The basic story of the Lone Ranger's This, the main character, Ranger John Reed was born in 1850 and was the sole survivor of a group of six Texas Rangers who were ambushed by outlaws who killed the other five Rangers, including his older brother Daniel. Gotta give our tortured hero a haunted backstory, just like Batman. Another mass hero who was conceptualized six years after the birth of a lone reader, Batman was numerous mass heroes

or popping up in the early 20th century media. A Native American man, Tonto found Reed and then nursed him back to health. In the original story, Tonto actually breastfed Reed back to health. But then that story was quickly changed because it outraged and disgusted the general population, general public.

It was customary though, in certain tribes for men to breastfeed both the young and the sick. Men's nipples do have the proper internal equipment needed for milk production, and taunt on his people to figure out how to activate those hormones. And the hormones needed to spark that equipment

into life giving tasty action. And yes, I said tasty, male breast milk, typically about 50% sweeter than female breast milk. Not sure why we men don't still work on producing our sweet, sweet man, Teddy milk. Men were still producing breast milk today, maybe the current baby formula shortage, you know, wouldn't even matter. Dude, you just step in, provide all the extra baby food our society needs. It's a shame.

It's a real tough, Teddy shame. And almost none of that is true. Tonto, of course, did not breastfeed the little ranger. I wish. Pretty funny origin story. He needs is a shame is a real tough titty shame And almost none of that's true Tonto of course did not breastfeed the lone ranger Wish pretty funny origin story men do have the equipment, but naturally we just you know We'll never start just kicking out milk Tonto did nurse the lone ranger back to health though Fed him a steady diet of peanut butter hot apple cider showbiz that's how you do in Hollywood

We'll never be truly safe from our fish. Uh, sorry, he did nursing back to health. And then once healthy, uh, read then Don, the black mask made from his dead brother's vest. I didn't know that. Mounted his stallion, Saspirilla, I mean, silver. And Rome the West has a lone ranger to aid those in need to fight evil and to establish justice. As one might expect, cowboy shenanigans ensued weekly.

The creators of the character were George W. Trendle, manager of WXYZ radio station in Detroit, Michigan, and writer Fran Striker. Fran also created the Green Hornet, View Comic Fans. A few people bother to ever review George W. Trendle's production legal files to verify the true origin of the Lone Ranger, which is why future claims about Reeves and others have been rarely debunked academically. Lone Ranger serialized radio show first aired locally in Detroit on January 31st, 1933. By the end of the decade, the radio program was wildly popular, carried by more than 400 American stations. Popular line from the show became part of the American lexicon as kids around the nation

for generations, including mine, would yell, hi, oh, silver, away! In the show's theme song, right, the fourth movement from J-Jalakinao, Racinis, William Tello-Overture, would become a popular jingle to many young lanes across the nation. Lone Ranger's first movie serial would appear in 1938, 1949, television version of the Radio Show debut on ABC, although the radio program ended in 1954, and the TV show ended in 1957, the lone

rangers adventures continued on in various forms. There was a movie in the 60s, plus cinema remakes, the Legend of the Lone Ranger 1981, and the lone ranger in 2013, with the very Caucasian Johnny Depp playing his controversial role as Native American Tonto. Depp has obviously had a lot more to worry about recently than playing Tonto. A strange soap opera, his recent defamation trial was. And in a nutshell, the lone ranger has always been a white masked former Texas ranger with an outstanding horse and gun skills and a revenge story, fueling his passion for vigilante

justice. Rides white horse named silver, hands out silver bullets, hangs out with his native buddy Tonto, fighting crime like the Batman and Robin of the Old West. So where did the idea of Bass Reeves, who worked primarily in pre-Occahoma, being the inspiration for the Lone Ranger initially come from? It originated in that 2006 Reeves biography we referenced earlier, the one written by a historian, Art T. Burton, Black Gun Silver Star. In the book, Burton wrote Bass Reeves as the closest real person to resemble the Lone Ranger. Burton documents that Reeves career as a law man was widely known, celebrated in this time,

and sites various similarities between Reeves and the lone ranger. Among those popular of the similarities, they both took to wear in disguises to find their targets. With the lone ranger wearing a full on black mask, Reeves dressed up in disguises, like being a farmhand or being a tramp to catch his targets. Also noted that both Reeves and the lone ranger had native American companions and or guides while on the trail of some of the baddies. Merton initially points out that they both shared a love for white or gray horses, giving

out silver keepsakes, and of course both were described as bad asses with firearms and elite horsemen. However, a lot of these claims linking Reeves to the lone ranger fall apart under a little scrutiny. It was common practice of US marshals working in Indian territories to have native assistance and it was not uncommon for lawmen to wear disguises to fool targets. Those characteristics definitely not unique to bass Reeves. Another widespread practice of the era was using silver dollars as payments or tributes.

Bass certainly did that as did many others. So again, this is not point to Reeves. Lone Ranger gave out silver bullets, which there was no record of Reeves doing. Critics also point out that Bass Reeves was not a Texas Ranger, nor did he spend his time working much the Texas beat until towards the end of his career. Biographer Burton also mentioned that both Reeves and Lone Ranger rode light colored horses. Seems like a pretty weak association. Since again, a lot of Lamanone Ranger Road light colored horses. Seems like a pretty weak association. Since again, a lot of Laman.

Undoubtedly also road light colored horses. But these are the claims that built the myth. Another possible connection, though it's another of Burton's admitted reaches, as it's the original story of the Lone Ranger began on the radio in Detroit. Many of the fugitives arrested by bass Reeves and later convicted at Fort Smith, Arkansas, were sent to the Detroit House of Corrections in Michigan. Perhaps they told some tales that became part of local lore

that reached the character's creators, or, you know, just all quincents. So was Bass Reeves the real lone ranger? Not Reeves has an excellent choice to be the inspiration for a powerful character like the lone ranger, but no, probably not true. Certainly no conclusive evidence saying it is true. Art Burton says, I doubt we would be able to prove conclusively that Reeves is the inspiration

for the lone ranger. We can, however, say, unequivocally, that Bass Reeves is the closest real person to resemble the fictional lone ranger on the American Western Frontier in the 19th century. So, fair. On that point, I agree with him. Nine years later, when asked about this claim back in 2006, Burton wrote, in regards to Bass Reeves being the inspiration for the lone ranger fictional character,

I never said that it was definitive. Just coincidental similarities. So who was the lone ranger inspired by? We don't know, creators never made it clear, and they're long dead now. Didn't necessarily ever come from one person, probably in a malgamation of several real people

with a bunch of imagination thrown in. Some suggest the inspiration for the lone ranger likely came from already established characters like Zoro, Robin Hood, combined with the already popular dime novels of the Wild West, right, Zoro created 1919, popular 1933. Robin Hood legends go back to the 13th century, but also a little resurgence in the early 20th century, fictional tales of Robin Hood, popular 1933. All right, with the loan ranger bass reeds connections cleared up.

Now, as much as we can clear it up, let's tell Reeves a story. He certainly doesn't need a lone ranger association for a story to be fucking incredible. His story is more interesting than the lone rangers, right? His story is real. Most of it, anyways, he was an actual living legend one time. And forever, a wild West legend since his death. So let's get to know this legend.

The legend of bass Reeves with this week's Time Suck timeline right after our mid show sponsor break. Hope you heard some appealing deals. Please use our landing codes and take advantage of them. Help you save money. Help us keep sponsors. Shrap on those boots soldier, we're marching down a time-sub-time line. Once upon a time a child born into slavery was given the name of Bass, probably sometime in July of 1838 in Crawford County, Northwestern Arkansas. Various census data and other sources have bass being born in Texas in in different years. Records for slaves and people of color were barely kept and much information about him comes from oral stories

told by individuals and families in rural Oklahoma. Bass had a sister named Jane Reeves. That seems certain. A pair of the bass was named after his grandfather, Bass Washington, whose name appeared on Bass's mother's death certificate. Bass and his mom, Paraly Stewart, no one knows who his father was, were owned by Arkansas farmer and state legislator William Steel Reeves.

Oh Billy Steel, pretty sick name. Sounds like the name of an 80s porn star, right? Billy Steel. Tonight on the Spice Channel, Billy Steel, Christie Canyon, Nina Hartley, and As Reeves, star in the legend of the Bone Ranger, Hi-Oh butt slaps, big bushes and teased out feathered bangs away. Anyway, Bass wouldn't take the surname of Reeves until later as an adult, the name of his slave master's family.

As a child, Bass worked alongside his parents as a water boy, later a field hand. While carrying out his duties as a water boy, it said that Bass caused concern for his mom because he spent quite a bit of his time singing songs about guns, rifles, butcher knives, robberies, killings, his little diddies he made up. She was worried he was going to turn out to be an outlaw. Maybe he's on that path and she steered him towards law man instead. Slave Master William S. Reeves was born in Pendleton District, South Carolina, March 9, 1794. Two parents who had immigrated to the US from Ireland.

He was of English ancestry, even had some royal blood, several lords in his family line. He was reared in Nashville, Tennessee by an uncle, served in the war of 1812 and the Creek Indian War as well, an old Billy 12 inches of steel represented Hickman County in the Tennessee legislature, and later represented Crawford County in the Arkansas legislature. When Bachelors around eight years old, around 1845 or 1846, the William S. Reeves family, including eight of 12 children, some in-laws and six slaves, packed up 30 covered wagons and moved to Northern Texas, just across the border from Chokta on Chickasaw nations and the Indian territory. The settlement of Preston District of Grayson County, northwest of the city of Sherman as a member of Peter's colony.

Peter's colony, a series of land grants handed out to some of North Texas's first settlers who were U.S. citizens. Parts of 26 different counties in Texas today used to be part of Peter's colony. Thank God we don't have to move in big covered wagons anymore. Move to a place with no electricity, no running water, no hospital, no AC, et cetera, et cetera. His bass got older along with his water boy duties. He tended to his master's mules and horses,

his way with animals then led to his becoming a blacksmith's helper, because he was a quick learner and swift with his work at the forge as well as eager to take on additional duties. The blacksmith never grumbled when bass spent more time with the master's prized horses. And as legend glows, the horses thrived under his attention. Bass was eventually selected as his master's companion, a position of some authority among his fellow slaves at some point in his childhood.

His mom, Paraly, was pleased because now each member of her family was an upper servant able to eat at the so-called house table. Bass, the sister Jane had been working inside the house for years. Her needlework was exceptional. Apparently herself had long been her mistress's personal attendant and the household favorite. She's saying on most occasions when her master wanted to be entertained, so weird. Bass was soon put into the ownership of Williamson George Robertson Reeves. George Reeves, the fifth to 12 kids born January 3rd, 1826, and Hickman, Tennessee, bass 11 when he was born. George, like his father, would go on to be a public servant.

The act that is a tax collector in 1848, was sheriff of Grayson County from 1850 to 1854. 1855, George was elected to the Texas House of Representatives from Grayson County, remained a legislator until the American Civil War changed everything. Stories have bass accompanying George nearly everywhere, serving as a valet, bodyguard, coachman, butler, overall personal assistant. While working for George, he asked to learn to read so he could study the Bible.

But like many other slaves of time, his request was denied, but he was permitted to learn how to get really good with the gun, and that's fucking weird. Weird priorities. I reckon we don't want you learning to read bass, Matt Stahler, getting big eye these, and he wanted to overthrow your slave masters and whatnot. How about you take this rifle out to the field and get real, real handy with it instead? I see no harm coming from that. It's almost like another shit makes sense. As a young man bass quickly became a debt with a variety of weapons, especially pistols and rifles. He was ambidextrous. His speed and accuracy would become legendary. The guns he used when he was a slave were simple in playing no silver and nickel-plated pistols with ivory or pearl handles, no fancy rifles

of any type. And then once he won his freedom and became a noted lawman, he kept his weapon re-simple. He was never flashy, never felt the need to own an expensive weapon, right? They weren't something for him to show off. They were tools of his trade. No different than a carpenter's hammer or a farmer's plow. He preferred his fire arms to be plain, ordinary, and conspicuous, and of course to shoot true.

I practiced a lot, got real good, real fast. It slaved master, quickly entered him into a number of shooting competitions. You would win a number of turkey shoots, a bunch of other local shooting contests, you know, against all commerce, black or white. A Turkey shoot in the seminal nation consists of a Turkey upside down on a close line. And then I ride it with a rifle with attempt to shoot the head off this fucking Turkey. Well, galloping at full speed down the line. I don't know, I don't know

why these things aren't still around. Right? Why don't we have those competitions anymore? Maybe because of animal cruelty. Maybe PETA taking the fun out of torturing upside down turkeys to death. Reve speed with the pistol has been likened to that of a Methodist preacher reaching for a platter of fried chicken during Sunday dinner at a Deacon's house.

Sure and true with no wasted motion. And that is a funny way to describe something. I've not been to a lot of dinners with Methodist preachers and Deacons so I don't know how accurate that is. Local legends in and around Indian territory describe Reeves' proficiency as a marksman in lots of colorful ways. One recording sentiment said that Reeves could shoot the left hind leg off a contented fly, sitting on a mules ear at a hundred yards and never ruffle hair. Let's not let's some shit some goofy side character saying Western. I love that stuff.

Could he shoot? Hell. I reckon he could blast off a running field mouse's tail at a hundred yards on a windy day during a thunderstorm while standing on an ant hill dancing around lightning strikes. Could he shoot? Man could shoot all three bowling pins out of the air before they return to a juggler's hands two miles out during a solar eclipse. Whilst any one lagging on horseback playing the star-spangled banner on an air banjo behind

his back. Bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank bank could he shoot? Are you shitin' me? Bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, bank, could he shoot? Are you shitting me?

Man, can pupe you to cavity out of a bandit's mouth, 17 miles away while doing a handstand in the overtornado. While making the meanest venison stew you ever did taste with his feet, while reciting Shakespeare, while impregnating two different women and one man at the same time, yeah, he can shoot. And the acid is definitely kick it in. Reeves himself. It's a good trip so far. This is making this more fascinating subject matter than ever. Just watching you smile more and more.

I mean, we're enjoying it out here. Yeah, things are moving in a good way right now. Good head cowboy. Oh, thank you. I'm a space cowboy. The space cowboy, tell him a space cowboy show. Reeves himself would claim he was only fair with a rifle, but the accounts of him consistently portray him as a legendary marksman. One more more account has him stumbling upon his steer

being drugged down by a pack of six wolves. And from his moving horse, he took down all six wolves with just eight shots. All right. Many sources said that he won the region's shooting competition so often that finally people asked his slave master to not enter him in any more competitions to give someone else a chance. Besides just skill with weapons and his talent with horses, he had a few other almost comic book character like traits, according to legends, strongest fuck. Because that's in what the story described as superhuman strength. It was certainly big for his era with most accounts, having standing at perhaps six two, weighing about 180 pounds. When the average man at that time stood about

five one and was about 95 pounds. Just take it. Average guy in America, there's a Civil War thought to have been about five foot eight. Way to buck 40. I love imagine the typical dude being five foot one under a hundred pounds. If I can do a time machine, I can fucking dominate. I can take my big cowboy hat back there, you know. Reeves big handlebar mustache was always on point, became a signature look, not why, not sure why, those mustache is at intimidation points. On the right kind of person, but they do.

Clean shave and Sam Elliott, not gonna command nearly the same respect as a mustache-yode Sam Elliott in Western. Elliott is great by the way, in 1883, that Yellowstone spin off. Episode three delivers one of my favorite Wild West tough guy speeches to a man. He has a gun pointed at who is trying to cause a wagon train mutiny. During the war we fought at a battle. A place called the wilderness. Because there was nothing around but the wilderness. I fired my rifle so many times it melted. Just droop

like rotten fruit. So I killed with my pistol. And when I ran out of bullets, I killed with my sword. And when my sword broke, I killed with my boots and bare hands. When the battle was over and I looked behind me, the wilderness was gone. On a tree left standing, chopped down chest high by bullets. We killed 5,000 men that day. When I say killing you means nothing to me.

I mean it. Killing you means nothing. I can imagine mean it. Killin' you means nothing. I can imagine bass Reeves' scene, shit like that, to guys. And I like to get that intense right now, frees me out. One story, bass and strength came while he was riding in the Southern portion of Chickasaw Nation. Reeves came upon some cowboys attempting to extract

a full-grown steer from one of the bogs along Mud Creek, which emptied into the Red River. Cowboys had roped the steer, were attempting to drag it back to solid ground using our horses. Several ropes had apparently broken under the strain. Stear was huge. It was buried so deep in the bog that only its head and upper back were visible. Size rolled back into its head.

Neck had been pulled in stretch until its tongue lulled out of its mouth into the mud and slimy in the bog. Windpipes so restricted by the ropes that its breath only in occasional labor. Raspene weeds. It's damn near dead when Reeve showed up. When Pipe so restricted by the ropes of his breath only an occasional labored, rasping wheeze. It's damn near dead when Reeves showed up. In fact, the Cowboys were almost ready to give him up as lost. There were a few minutes from riding off leaving the steer where they found him, with the

boat his brain to soothe their consciousness. Reeves rode up, watched him struggle for a few minutes, then legend goes that he gave off a bit of a grumble, then stripped off all his clothes, and without a word to the others he made his way to the bog to the dying animal and then he mounted that motherfucker and he fucked the shit out of it by the time he was done, it's serious dead and he used his hard dip to lift it out of the mud place it on a dryer patch of dirt so its owners could butcher it up for meat and he walked back to his horse he kind of springboard he like pulled vaulted back on his horse with his winner and he hung

off his rifle off his hard penis and rode away. That's crazy talk. No, real story. After waiting to the bog to this poor steer, he yanked off all the ropes, which allowed the animal to breathe and then grabbed the steer by the horns, began to lift and pull, talking to it in a low soothing, steady voice.

Slowly he helped lift a huge animal. I mean, there were roughly a thousand pounds or more from the suction of the bog. Reeves then waited out of the mud, wiped himself off as clean as he could with the flat of his hands, stuffed his clothes into a saddle by bags, and then mounted his horse, rode off stark naked. That part is part of the story. While mumbling something about damn dumb cowboys, say you rode off without saying a word to any of the dumb strut cowboys, even though he'd been there for almost a full hour, even the real story is pretty weird. Now let's get back into some dates.

April 12, 1861, America is torn down the Mason Dixon line in North and South, brother against brother. Largely over the practice of slavery, the American Civil War has begun. If you want to hear our suck on the Civil War, it's episode 188. November of 1901, Bass would give an interview to the Muscogee newspaper,

and he would talk about his life during the war. He said it was George Reeves' body servant accompanying him into a battles during the Civil War. Colonel Reeves was a member of the 11th Texas Calvary Regiment under the command of Colonel William G. Young. But I said they were together in the battles of Chica Maguah and missionary rich. Interestingly, the article states that later they were in the battle of P. Ridge in Arkansas where Reeves said he saw Texas hero general Ben McCulloch killed, but in fact, P Ridge was fought before Chikamagwa and missionary

rich. But also he's 63 when he's given this interview, talking about shit that happened over, you know, fucking 40 years before. So he got the order of the battle switched up, right? So what? The story given by Reeves cannot be verified because records were not kept concerning body servants of Confederate officers and Colonel George Reeves would not mention bass in his war memoirs later. Not surprised he didn't mention, though, considering how the two will split apart from one another,

we'll get into that shortly. If Bass did a company George for a good portion of the work, God knows how many total skirmishes he ended up in, how many men he may have killed. The 11th Regiment of the Texas Calvary was involved in approximately 150 battles in skirmishes. One report said that as many as 500 men fought in less than 50 returned home with the end of the war. Civil war battles might be where Bass first became a hard and fearless legend. One of those many battles was the Battle of Chuston Law.

Chuston Law fought on December 26, 1861 in what is now Osage Nation. Though a relatively early battle in the war, it was the last battle in which the Indians loyal to the Union under the leadership of the Creek Chief, O'Peathley Ahola, also known as Gauge, put up a fight. They were crushed by the Confederate troops, mostly Texans and Confederate natives. The loyalist Indians had put up an excellent fight in two earlier engagements. These Indians were primarily Creek Seminals and African Americans. After this battle, chief O'Peathley Ahola and his native and black warriors were forced fight in two earlier engagements. These Indians were primarily Creek Seminoles and African Americans.

After this battle, Chief O'Peathley Aholla and his native and Black warriors were forced to flee and disarray for the Indian territory. In the Kansas only to face freezing and starving. Paul Brady, Bass, his great nephew, states that Bass found home around his time as a fugitive slave with the full blood Creek and Seminole Indians of the Indian territory. As such, he was with chief Opiecia Hola at the Battle of Chuston Law, where the chief advised Bass to stay in the Northern Cherokee Nation and fight. In the Cherokee Nation, there was a sect called the Kutua, who were abolitionists, also called Pins. The Pins carried on a guerrilla war against the Confederates and the territory, throught the duration of the Civil War, and inflicted heavy damage. And Bass Reeves may have joined up with this group

after the Battle of Chuston Law, or could have left his master after the Battle of P Ridge, records vary and are a bit unclear. Number of Cherokees would leave the Confederacy not long after P Ridge and joined the Union cause in July of 1862, maybe Bass joined with them, or at least left when they left. Interesting side note about the Battle of P Ridge,

while Bill Hittcock, famous gunfighter, also at P Ridge, serving as a union scout. No count of, you know, Wild Bill and Bass Reeves meeting, but maybe they've been chatted about shooting techniques or something. Regardless during this period that Bass was done being a slave of George or anyone for that matter, according to Bass Reeves' daughter, Alice Spawn,

Bass part of company with his master over an altercation during a car game. Though, body servants became on many many occasions their master's best friends and confidants. In this case, young Reeve got into a heater argument that led to a physical fight. He led him given his master a fucking ass whoopin. He quote, laid him out cold with his fist and then made a run for the Indian territory north across the red river. Right. Again, Sam Elliott pops in. After shining up, Billy Steele's son the saloon, and flicked in the grievance, it could never be forgiven, no forgotten.

The best was a man without a country. He could no longer dare stay in the South. He knew no union man in the North. While he was friendly with the tribes, he was a member of none. He had only his cunning and his guns for companions in an out constant battle against the ever-present threat of death. Look at the other. Death. You ever really hit that last part.

Reeves knew that his attack on George Reeves, you know, he could end his death. And it said that everyone who knew anything about this might have been involved refused to talk, because they were probably worried about basket and hang for something they'd say. Exactly what Bass Reeves did during the Civil War shortly after all this remains uncertain. It seems that he hit out, laid low for a while. On his own, said he learned the laid land in the Indian territory, like a cook knows his kitchen. And he learned to speak Muscogee, language of the creeks and seminoles, and conversed reasonably

well in the languages of the other five civilized tribes. Excuse me, the inhabited Indian territory. All skills that would later make him a legendary deputy marshal. While Reeves was learning some skills that would help him track down a few thousand criminals in Indian territory years later, the nation around him is changing forever. The emancipation proclamation or proclamation 95 was a presidential proclamation and executive order issued by US President Abraham Lincoln. I've heard of him. September 22, 1862 during the Civil War. It read, all persons held a slaves within any state or designated part of a state. The people whereov shall then be in rebellion against the United States shall be then then s forward.

And forever free and the executive government of the United States, including the military and naval authority thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of such persons. And we'll do no act or act to repress such persons or any of them in any efforts they may make for their actual freedom. The do no acts or, you know, to repress such persons, sure, shit didn't end up holding true, but the freedom part more or less been fall through. January 1st, 1863, the proclamation changed the legal status under federal law of more

than three and a half million enslaved African Americans in the secessionist Confederate states from enslaved to free. Now as soon as the slave escaped to control the Confederate government, either by running away cross-union lines or through the advance of federal troops, that person was permanently free. The American Civil War period, among the least clear parts of Reves' life, one man interviewed about Reves years after the war claimed that after Bass escaped, he fought for the North and became a sergeant in the Union Army during the Civil War. It's possible. There were numerous African Americans and listed who served with the Union's first Indian

home guard regiment, which was composed mostly of Seminole and Creek Indians and freedmen. Many Blacks and Regiments served as non-commissioned officers, namely sergeants. Countless Blacks, sergeants, you know, went only by Indian names in the roster. So possible that one of those men, you know, was Bass Reaves, but just no way to be certain. The American Civil War ended April 9th, 1865. After the war, 1866, Bass's former master, George Reeves, whose ass he whooped was elected again by Grayson County voters to the Texas state legislature. Georgia will remain in that body until the time of his death, September 5th, 1882.

Weird death. Dude, died of rabies. Got bit by a rabid dog when he tried to keep that dog away from some kids. I forget that people used to die of rabies like in this country. What a horrible way to go. Final symptoms that often occur over the last few days

of your life with untreated rabies are horrific. Hyperactivity, excitable behavior, fear of water, sometimes even fear of drafts or fresh air. You know you lose your fucking mind. Death occurs after a few days due to cardio, respiratory arrest. Poor Reeves was locked in a wooden shed, padded with mattresses to protect him from the potential self-inflicted violent tendencies associated with the last days of the disease 56 the vaccine for rabies developed just a few years after his death. Oh man, he's close

Reconnected with bass now fallen the Civil War Somewhere in the late 1860s. He married Nellie aka Jenny made in late last name not known young Texan born in 1840 And they would go on to have 10 kids together. Five boys and five girls. Dude was good with the gun and shot well in the bedroom too apparently. Some sources have 11 kids in the Reeves family. Now free man Reeves moved with his new family to Van Buren, Arkansas, a town that borders Fort Smith, had about a thousand people at this time where he bought a small farm right near the Indian Territory border. Reeves estate valued it around 100 bucks, that time,

probably worth a little bit more now. House was across the street from the tracks to Little Rock and Fort Smith Railroad that ran alongside the Arkansas River, town newspaper Van Buren later reported that Reeves built a very nice cottage on the side of his original dwelling. His daughter Alice stated that Bass built

this particular home himself, the first by a black family in Van Buren proper. She called the house with its eight rooms, a show place. Said they had a big barn with spotless stalls and well-tended horses. Doesn't seem this property exists anymore. Can't find an address for it anywhere. So much info, you know, lost for too many years, thanks to almost no record keeping done for black residents. Van Buren now part of the fort smith metropolitan area, almost 25,000 people in that area now, or in Van Buren now. So random, but the term up bazooka invented by a guy from Van Buren, Bob Burns, a comedic

radio, movie actor in the 1930s and 40s made a weird trombone like instrument in high school called it a bazooka, inspired by the word kazoo, that instrument, goofed around with this thing and some radio shows, played it in the Marines jazz band when he served in Now World War One, and then in World War II, the US military would start calling their handheld anti-tank rocket launchers bazookas. You know, I love random obscure trivia like that. According to family stories, man.

Ha ha. We're gonna see if I'm gonna be able to record this whole thing today. It's coming in and out. Ah, okay, all right, look away, there we go. Now I can refocus. Scream was getting a little weird. According to Family Stories, Reeves first sought

to assist law enforcement officers who were headquartered at the US Marshall's office in Van Buren, sometime in 1870, when he would have been 32. Using his knowledge of Indian territory and his tracking skills, Reeves was able to make much better money as a scout and tracker throughout the territory than most and definitely made more money and steadier money than he was making as a farmer.

With more money, able to relocate his mother, Paraly, and his sister Jane, DeVan Buren as well, established himself in this new community, also minimized contact with locals on Forty though. Many were former Confederate soldiers and sympathizers. 1872, less than stellar lawyer named William Story was appointed to the Federal Western District Court Judship at Fort Smith. I've slightly more than a hundred murders were committed in Indian territory in a short Lesson's Stellar lawyer named William Story was appointed to the Federal Western District Court Judgeship at Fort Smith. I've decided more than a hundred murders were committed in Indian territory in a short period of time.

Story would have to resign to avoid impeachment for bribery. In March of 1875, when a Reeves biggest allies is going to be appointed to replace Story, a two-term representative to the US Congress. Remember the House Committee on Indian Affairs from St. Joseph Missouri? Isaac Charles Parker, the new judge for Smith, appointed by President Eulissus S. Grant. Parker and Reeves would become business partners of a sort and respected friends over many years working together towards the common goal of greatly reducing crime in the area. One of judge Parker's early moves after being appointed in 1875, as I mentioned earlier, was to order his martial Daniel P up him to hire 200 deputies, mainly to police Indian territory.

And according to records, the maximum amount of deputies that would have on staff that would probably like maybe 40. The small group had a lot of ground to cover, largest of any federal court in terms of area and US history through the whole of Indian territory and Western Arkansas. Altogether, somewhere between 75 to 100 deputies would die in shootouts with outlaws during Parker's two decades of Fort Smith trying to bring law to Indian Territory. Because of the knowledge of the area and fluency and the creek and seminal languages, Reeves immediately recognized as a huge asset to the government's cause in this area.

Some time after March of 1875, Bass was approached by officials and asked to serve as a deputy uh US Marshal. He accepted the offer and became one of the first men who rode for Parker. Has been assumed that Reeves was the first African-American commissioned officer, West and Mississippi as a as a deputy US Marshal. That may or may not be true. Certainly one of the first. We know that the majority of black deputy US Marshal that worked for the uh Fort Smith court were not appointed until 1890 or later. Deputy US marshals for the Western District of Arkansas were ordered to make a rest for murder attempts to murder manslaughter assault with intent to kill or to maim arson robbery

rape burglary larson's a larson see incest adultery and willfully and maliciously placing obstructions on a railroad track. What a random assortment of crimes. Hey Charlie Reeves just brought in another murderer and stage coach Robber. Who are you currently tracking down? Oh, how do the trail of two outlaws this week? Sam I heard a jumbo Wilson is staying in his mama's house. I plan on bringing that sister fucking to court tomorrow morning. Then I ride back out to evil mustash canyon. NABB's shifty Pete for time yet another damsel of distress to some train tracks last week. For these offenses, a warrant was a desired but not mandatory. For other offenses such as violations

of the revenue laws or introducing liquor in Indian country, a warrant was necessary unless the felon was caught in the act. Interesting priorities. You can arrest someone without a warrant for introducing liquor into Indian territory, but you can arrest someone without a warrant for introducing liquor into Indian territory, but you can arrest someone without a warrant for stepping out on their marriage. Debtors were also made aware of the types of crimes which Indians could be arrested. These crimes varied specifically or specified by jurisdictional treaty restrictions on sovereign Indian nations who policed their own citizens. A 1907 Oklahoma City newspaper wrote of Reeves' early career in the perils of the job, 80 miles west of Fort Smith that was known as the Deadline.

And whenever a deputy marshal from Fort Smith or Paris, Texas crossed the Missouri, Kansas and Texas track, he took his own life in his hands and he knew it. Our nearly every trail would be found posted by outlaws a small card warning certain deputies that if they ever crossed the Deadline, they would be found posted by outlaws a small card warning certain deputies that if they ever crossed the deadline, they would be killed. Reeves has a dozen of these cards, which were posted for his special benefit. And in those days, such a notice was no idle post. And many outlaw has bitten the dust trying to ambush a deputy on these trails. Man, what a different era. The modern equivalent will be posted assigned along a country road or at the edge of a neighborhood, just saying straight up to any law enforcement who continue and enter will be hunted down and killed And Reeves knew these trails well. During the 1880s, there was two principal trails that led up from Denison, Texas and the Indian into Indian country

Frequented by Horstieves, bootleggers and others They were known as the Seminole Trail and the Potawatomi Trail The two tribes not like each other, state-office others trails, except to fight. Space between them, uh, uh, scenes of many violent clashes and Reeves involved in many of those clashes. Although, uh, Reeves carried two cult pistols, his main weapon was his Winchester rifle. Winchester was the weapon of choice for many in the Indian territory. And on the western frontier in general, pistols were used as backup weapons or close quarter

defense options. Deputy U.S. marshals also generally had shotguns in their arsenal. Whenever Deputy Marshal left a fort's myth to capture outlaws in the territory, he almost always took with him his outfit that consisted of his grub wagon, a cook usually a posseman and or guard, depending on what particular outlaws he was after. The grub wagon sometimes called the tumbleweed wagon in the area was commonly stocked with bread, beans, coffee, bacon, beef, molasses, sugar, flour, potatoes, venison, and ham. Makes sense.

Yeah? Yeah, I had some bandit for weeks. Yeah, they're hiding way out in the country. It's not like you're gonna come pass some fast food joints or snack machines. I love historical details like this. Like, these guys brought a rolling kitchen with them. That makes so much more sense than in the movies. When dude just gallop out into a deserty, dusty, expanse, you know, and just their horses,

they don't have big saddlebags full of gear, because that doesn't look cool. Maybe a little flask for water, maybe some venison, maybe a rolled up blanket to lay on at night, and that's it. I was wondering, I'm like, how the fuck are they surviving out there? That's not enough food, that's not enough water. They could just drink out of rivers and streams unless they really wanted to risk, you know, McGill popping off their buttolls with some dysentery. And they're not bringing a pot to boil any water in. Now they brought a grub wagon.

That makes way more sense. I mean, for short rides fine. You know, a flask and some jerky, but for longer rides down the open country, no way. The posthum would cost about $3 a day as did the guard and the cook and his kitchen together cost about $20 per month. And yes, now my shirt's off.

One of my shirts out. We had to take a little break there. I had to get some water and try to refocus. Re-get my temperature. Re-regulated. All right, the deputy paid his own expenses. Got all the fees, whatever dead or alive bounty was all for them. That's how they could afford this.

Right, the government allowed $0.75 a day to feed prisoners prisoners captured mileage for the distance. They traveled at 10 cents a mile. It was a hazardous business, but successful deputies can make big money through lucrative bounties. Deputies of course wrote a horseback and range wide from the wagon, which was simply his base of supplies and his rolling prison. We used to say that he never made a 30-day trip back with less than $400 worth of fees and expense money about $11,000 in today's dollars He once went to a mud creek brought in 16 prisoners at one time and the fees amounted to $700 while the total overall expense to him was less than $300 He once captured 17 prisoners in Comanche County took them into Fort Smith The fees for that trip amounted to $900.

That's equivalent to almost $25,000 today. Biggest haul I can find to mention of him making was $5,000, which would be about $134,000 in today's money. So profit-wise, he did pretty well. He was able to afford a big ass house at one time in Van Buren. In addition to store and food, you also needed to bring a wagon to jail,

whoever, yeah, a wagon to jail, whoever you caught on these bounty hunts. Bounty hunter, another way to describe who these, uh, you know, deputies were like bass reefs was basically boba fat with the cowboy hat thick mustache and a six year. Each wagon was equipped with a long, heavy chain when a prisoner was captured. He was shackled. He didn't get thrown over the back of a horse gallop back in a town, like in the movies. Uh, night, all the prisoners were shackled in pairs and shackles passed through a ring and a long chain.

One end of the chain was locked around the rear axis of the wagon. In this manner, one man could handle up to around 30 prisoners, if you wish to. Bounty hunters and the men who rode with them always had to make sure these prisoners never got within, you know, reach their six shooters, the danger ever presents, no guard or cook ever allowed to gamble with the prisoners for fear that they would lose their guns. Early in his career as a roving law man, Rives, uh, Reeves, rode out of Fort Smith as a posseman for other deputies, right, to gain some experience like a, like an apprenticeship. He also acts as a guard, including Haines, really did two deputies ride out in a posse together,

but the possemen were considered acting deputy US marshals while they were on the trail. Definition of a posseman, but the posse men were considered acting deputies, US marshals while they were on the trail. Definition of a posse men by the way, pretty loose, an able bodied man serving as a member, you know, of a posse. Basically a guy not hired by the judge, not an official government representative, but a dude who could fucking handle himself with a gun around some outlaws. In this context, you know, like a like a bounty hunter apprentice, a deputies posse, you can assist of one of or or one of six extra members, and sometimes could balloon into larger groups, especially after large crimes, like train robberies, where a big gang was behind them.

Didn't take long for bass to go from possemen to deputy marshal, and then to quickly emerge as one of the best marshals. Excuse me. Before we go further into the timeline and start talking about some of his arrests, let's check out a few random stories about the man that just added to his legend. A woman named Standie Sturdavant, who grew up in the O Sage nation of Oklahoma, heard the following three stories about Bass Reeves on the Oklahoma Frontier as a small girl. The first is the dog story. Bass Reeves was known to be an animal lover, was known to usually have a dog with him as a companion. He cherished not only his own animals, but also other peoples. Once up near Vanita in the Cherokee Nation,

he came upon a man beaten on his hound dog. The dog had just had some puppies, was apparently in somewhat poor condition, graded on Reeves' nerves that someone could beat an animal, especially one that had just given birth. Reeves grabbed the stick from the man, who was Cherokee, threatened him with bodily harm,

if he didn't stop thrashing the dog. Reeves told the man he would be back, and he leaves, turns later with the box to collect all the puppies and the mother dog. Then toss some coins at the dog beater rides away leading the mother dog along on a rope. Reeves took the animals to a friend, someone up somewhere up in that area who knew how to take good care of him. Several months later, Reeves said after he conducted his business in the area, he passed by the same friend, took one of the now lily puppies and headed home to race it.

Bojangles just poked his head up. Southern became extra interested in today's episode. The next story, Sandy Heard, was the skunk story. On another occasion down near Chokta Nation, near Robert's cave, bass Reeves and his posse had stopped for the night and made camp. They've been out round him, you know, rounded up felons,'re on the way back to Fort Smith with the contingent of prisoners. After dinner, when everyone was asleep, a skunk crawled out around Reeves and now some skunks don't carry odor around themselves unless they're riled up. Well, when bass awoke,

the skunk was curled up, blissfully sleeping next to him. One of the prisoners woke up at the same time, proceeded to yell, carry on, trying to rouse the skunk into doing something obnoxious. Bass reached over gently stroked the animal, talked, proceeded to yell, carry on, trying to rouse the skunk into doing something obnoxious. Bass reached over, gently stroked the animal, talked soothingly to it, and then it just mosed it off without spraying anybody. The reed's charm, dude struck fear into the heart of bandits and love into the heart of skunks. One more.

The story was told by Miss Studevon's grandmother, which allegedly occurred near Ulega, Cherokee Nation, the home of Will Rogers. It's hard and harder to read. They're having to look away every once in a while because the screen is bending. Oh, man, what a weird truck. Her grandmother said Bass Reaves was afraid of no man. It was like he had a destiny. And then his destiny was fulfilled until it was fulfilled.

He was invincible. She said that's a belief that's been held by many Native Americans. Since Reeves operated in the Indian territories, possible he adopted this line of thought himself. Well, while not making his rounds one day, Reeves came across a lynch mob near one of the large cattle ranches, evidently a rustler had been caught. It was about to be strung up, you know,

strung to a tree on the prairie by a group of cowboys. Without any thought to the danger, he was in. Reeves just rode straight into lynch mob, cut the man down with his knife, rode off with a man without saying a word to anybody it astonished everyone present so much that they just didn't pursue him maybe they knew who he was didn't want to rest risk ended up dead you know again I hear Sam Elliott who now is fucking part of my ass trip normally taking a lynch mob's prize off of hanging tree was a great way to end up at the end of a rope yourself

But you'd have a better chance of putting on a swim suit you'd have a better chance of putting a swim suit on a rattlesnake And you would get a new surround the neck of bass reefs How does Joe is this still entertaining? Yeah, it's great. You're doing doing way better than you think you think you are. Okay. Yeah, you're doing a great job. All right. Thank you. Uh, now let's jump back into timeline. Okay. Reves home court at Fort Smith ran nonstop in the fight against the copious amount of lawbreakers in the area. Between May 10th, 1875, September 1st, 1896, judge Parker tried 13,490 criminal cases and one better than 8,500 convictions. Approximately one in every hundred of those found guilty

was sentenced to death, usually by hanging. For the others, it was imprisonment from one to 45 years and one of the state penitentiaries that accepted federal prisoners. Parker's court was in session for six days a week, Monday through Saturday, 7.30 AM to 12 PM. You know, then they have lunch, talk about who they're gonna kill

and then come back from 1 PM to 6 PM. The vast majority of cases he saw, 85% were crimes committed in Indian territory. It was Parker's theory, which he often stated that certainty of punishment was the only way to combat crime. From 1875 until 1889, there was no appeal. You couldn't appeal his decisions. Parker's word was final except on those very rare occasions when the president intervened

to pardon somebody. Parker sentenced 88 men to be hanged. 79 were hanged. One was killed trying to escape, one died before their execution date, seven won reversals after that became possible in 1891. The 79 who were hung, 30 were white, 26 were Indian and 23 were black. So he's dude spread it around at quick glance,

which seems pretty fair. No race got preferential treatment when their life was on the line. Reeves went out on the trails constantly, working at a number of different targets and a number of capacities, worked as a train guard on prisoner transfers, helped to hunt down bootleggers and killers. By the time of the 1880 census, the Reeves family included eight children now, Sally 16, Robert 14, Harriet 12, Georgia 10 Georgia 10 Alice 8 Newland 7 Edgar 4 and Lula 2 Alice was states years later when being interviewed that on a regular basis attorneys William H H Clayton and William M. Cravens took the train from Fort Smith to Van Buren to visit Reeves to

talk about their cases. She said they always stayed at dinner with the family. Clayton was a prosecutor in attorney and Cravens was appointed to defend. Many of the felons arrested and brought to Fort Smith. Clearly Reeves, you know, was a respected man in the area. Clearly, my notes are moving around. Reeves legend was already growing by 1880 when he was 42. He was known as a man who couldn't be bribed, was fair, and was fearless. Also sounded pretty lively. One early Indian territory pioneer said, Bass Reeves was a very big man. Told jokes was boastful and lusty. Full of life and more large black hat.

He had a deep and resonant voice that could be very authoritative. His laugh was described as booming and thunderous. Dude, his size, he always wrote a large horse, Bass said, when you get as big as me, a small horse is as worthless as a preacher and a whiskey joint fight. Just when you need him bad to help you out, he's got to stop and think about it a little bit.

It's pretty funny analogy. Also do the less available food and more rugged lives. I guess guys really wear a fucking lot smaller back then. You know, they weren't that much shorter, just an inch or two shorter on average than now, but way lighter. Obesity based on a lot of 19th century photos, not the problem in the US that it is now.

People were not eating loads of processed foods for the high fruit toast corn syrup. Also no weight lifting back then. Right, big muscular dude back then was somebody I would just describe as like a wiry now. There are several pictures of bass reefs. And to me, he looks lanky or maybe even skinny, definitely not like some big barrel chest to do

that the stories portray. Six foot, two 180 pounds, that was fucking gigantic back then. Now I think it's pretty close to skinny. I'm six one, I'm somewhere around 235 pounds now, because I have a losing some weight. Despite what my kids made joke about, not fat. Not even my doctor thinks so. I have some extra weight around the midsection,

but not a ton. And I don't think myself as a huge dude, bigger than average, but not like a huge dude. But apparently back in the 1880s, I would have been a fucking mutant. I would have needed to ride two horses. Right, if Bass Reeves needed one big horse, I would have had to have two horses

and like a hammock, strong in between the horses. Just to carry my fucking bridge troll ass around. All right, I know that has nothing to do with today's tale. I just keep getting hung up on description to him is this massive dude. Like those Wild West guys were time warped into the future and just introduced to like one NFL football team their fucking heads would just explode.

Anyway, bass, the mountain reaves. Road mostly based, Soral Gray Horses, when he made trips to Indian nations. Reaves ability with horses only grew. He was often involved in wagers over his horsemen skills. As a big huge giant of a man, Bass learned to disguise himself on horseback by learning riding tricks from native tribes.

Telled him how to look smaller and the saddle at great distances. Also, Reves wouldn't always ride his best horses when he was in disguise for that being a dead giveaway. Right, that he was a peace officer. Outlaws, many times with riding furior horses that were unshawed, Deppies always had very good saddle horses that were horseshoes. They were noted for riding the best horses in the Indian territory.

So Reeves always kept a couple of regular saddle ponies for undercover work. Love it. I wonder if he had miniature ponies. God, he's so great. Like his knees riding up so high, like a grown man trying to ride in one of those big wheels, trying to disguise himself as maybe like a young white girl.

Big gruff, like black bounty hunter with a little blonde wig and little ponytails, little blue and white checkered dress or something. Know them to see here, I'm just a young white girl riding a miniature pony, fall from home, looking for Ma and Paul. Definitely not a bounty hunter. Definitely don't have a rifle poorly disguised as a princess want across my lap.

Traveling to the Indian territory on a regular basis allowed Reeves to become a familiar with significant number of the residents there, which we help them greatly on hunts, right? And having friendly homes, you could stop in as folks if he'd they've seen his targets, maybe to trade some supplies, something else if they needed it. All right, let's talk about some specific arrests now. It's about time. Let's get to some yippee-yippee-osh-yet already.

Come on, let's get to some planking. Tank, tank, tank, tank, tank, tank, let's get to this excitement. Well, searching out, fellons and indenteratory. Reaves the rest of John Lynch from murder, October 9th, 1882, deep Fort Creek of Creek Nation. And she'd been died from murder along with Robert Gentry and Willie Fisher.

And connection with his arrest, Reeves, Serf Sapina's on Sugar George, James Dick, and Dick Glass on October 12th at Cain Creek. George and Glass are two of the most famous personalities in the history of Creek Freedmen in the Indian territory. Sugar George was prominent in the political economic development of the Creek Freedmen and Creek Indian Territory. Sugar George was prominent in the political economic development of the Creek Freedmen and Creek Nation was one of its wealthiest citizens, Dick Glass.

Awesome name. One of the most famous Creek Freedmen outlaws in the history of Indian Territory. In early resident of the Indian Territory, Lem E. Bleven stated that I have heard Bass say that he took his US Marshall's commission just to get to kill dick glass. And George Mac, uh, both Negroes, these two Negroes were bad outlaws and they caused the US Marshal's lots of trouble. And that's just a quote that I'm reading.

Uh, bass, uh, bass is justice. He didn't care what color you were. Now, justice was justice. He was called, uh, okay, also, how great the name sugar George and dick glass. They sounded again like like 80s porn stars. Okay, also, how great the name Sugar George and Dick Glass. They sounded like 80s porn stars. Tonight on the Hustler Channel, Sugar George, Ginger Lind, Dick Glass, and Little Oral Annie, Star in the Good, The Bad, and The Bokakis. I wrote it my stupid notes,

but I was supposed to whistle the good, the bad and the ugly theme that I was supposed to whistle the good the bad and the ugly theme I forgot how to whistle That's how you know the de-assets really kicked in we're like, I don't know how to make my lips turn into whistle Okay On another bounty hunt around this time so forget that let's just get let's just get on away from that On another bounty hunt around this time, Reeves made a trip to Semmel to return with the prisoner who was being held there.

While they were on their way back, the prisoner bargained with Reeves. Prisoner bet that his steed could outrun Reeves' steed. And if it did, would Reeves' tear up his warrant? And apparently Reeves like this guy, he was in a gambling mood. So he took him up on it. And he was so confident his horse could win.

He said it wouldn't be necessary to, I, to, I don't fucking know. He wouldn't be nice. I'm, what am I trying to say? Reaves was so confident in his horse that he said it would not be necessary to, to tear it up as he, the prisoner couldn't not run the horse, oh, the, the warrant. But it was Reaves who was surprised by the speed of the convict's horse. So in the end, Reaves apparently did tear up the warrant as the prisoner rode away and was not captured again. Must not have been a real important prisoner. Maybe he's one of those adulterers or some incest goon. Maybe she done his wife and fucked a sister or an aunt or something.

He was a double outlaw and incest adulterer. Maybe bass loss of race because he was out in the range on one of those fucking miniature ponies again. Another story from others time helped establish a reeds as a master of disguise. Unfortunately, just like that last tale, it does not involve a miniature pony. One mile south of what is now Pharaoh or Spring Hill Oklahoma in Eastern Oak Fusky County. Bass Reeves had made camp and some tickets.

It was accustomed to hold several prisoners until he had enough in camp for them to be loaded into wagons and hauled off to Fort Smith. He had a man named Campbell, who stayed all the time in camp with the prisoners, working as a guard and as to Fort Smith. He had a man named Campbell, who stayed all the time he camped with the prisoners, working as a guard and as a camp cook. Probably got a discounted rate. So he got two guys doing one job.

All the prisoners he had in this go-around, were seated on a large log cut, especially for this purpose. The prisoners' feet would be shackled together. The shackles pinned to the ground, they're the end of the log, the rest of the loose shackles pinned the log itself. While the camp bass had some of these prisoners discussing

or heard some of these prisoners discussing, some notices that are implasted about offering $5,000 as a reward for the capture of two naughty brothers. That's about $134,000 in today's money. And Reeves of course wanted that reward. He studied them many ways in which he could make a capture. And he finally heard these two men were somewhere near the Texas border. So he joined in that direction. Got a posse together of his best posse guys Story goes he camped a full 28 miles from where he thought that they were living at their mom's house Of course they were Is it a great distance, but he believed it would keep suspicion low and allowed him time to get familiar with the lay the land and make a plan

His plan was to go undercover the skies as a tram and To walk the full 28 miles to his target mother's house. So that's what he did. He's a skydding included rags, a cane, shoes, which the soul's had a little floppy old hat. He had shot holes in his floppy hat to help sell his tramp backstory. Under all this loose fitting get up, he carried his martial tools at a couple pair of handcuffs,

sick shooter. And we reached his destination. The mother of the two boys came out to see what he wanted. Reeves really sold this part of the tramp. Said he just, you know, I just wanted to bite to eat. I'm very hungry, my feet are blistered. He wanted to say that the law was after him. I mean, now that he'd even shot at him,

look at these holes in my hat. And then this lady was like, I'll be glad to give you something to eat. She invited Reeves in while eating, the woman confided in Reeves that her two boys were also wanted by the law. Damn it! She hated the law!

And she took pity on people who were persecuted by the law like this poor tramp fellow. That night Reeves heard a sharp whistle from the creek near the house. He watched as the old woman went outside and answered her with her own whistle. I wish I could whistle. Two writers now came up to her. Her boys is $5,000 targets. The two of us who came back to the house together met bass. He kept up the trampolusion and the group decided to work together to evade the law.

Right, but he's lying. Bass convinced them not to divide their forces. They should sleep in the same room together. And then when they fell asleep, he fucking handcuffed them in their sleep. And he waited until the morning and then he kicked them awake. And he said, come on, boys, let's get going from here. That's the quote. Talk about a rude awakening. How dumb do you feel if you wake up that way? How pissed are you? He began to mark the march, the shocked duo shackled back to his camp. A full 28 miles away.

The boy's mom now, you know, she's been duped. She followed for the first three miles, calling Reeves every dirty name she knew. Of course she did. Uh, upon finally reaching his camp, Reeves found his followers. They're waiting for him and he remarked, maybe you think my money won't, this is this quote, maybe you think my money won't turn green now, boys. I have literally no fucking idea what that phrase means. I've read it over and over, no clue. I googled it, Google also confused, but that's what he said. And I'm passing it along and maybe you know.

Sometime in 1883 Reeves ran down an outlaw from Texas named Jim Webb now. He made his way to the Chickasaw Nation, part of the Indian Territory. He found employment with local rancher of note, Billy Washington, who at that time was a business partner with a guy named and I, Billy Washington, who at that time was a business partner with a guy named and I shit you not, Dick McLeish. A prominent Chickasaw Indian in an extensive ranch in the Southern portion of the Chickasaw Nation. Fuck sake, only would be better if his name was Dick D. Lish,

or Dick McLeak. I had no idea that this episode would have so many outlaws with porn star names. We have sugar George, dig glass, Billy steel. Now we have Dick McLeish. Webs was hired as the foreman of the Washington McLeish ranch with 45 cowboys under his supervision. Many of them being African Americans. We've had a bad temper, equally bad about bringing his guns out during arguments.

As far as being a foreman went, his heavy fisted approach seemed to work until of course one day didn't. We'll work in the farm one afternoon. We have noticed that his neighbor Reverend William Stewart, a black church circuit preacher, had started a small fire on his own farm and quickly burned out of control and was starting to spread to the vast Washington, McLeish ranch fields. Web was pissed. Went to confront Stewart in a short but very hostile argument. Andy was Stewart dead in Web's hands. Reeves took the warrant to go arrest Jim Webb for murder.

This time he had a white man named Floyd Wilson, right now, is posseman. Interested in dynamic in late 1800s in America. White man working for a black man. Reeves and Wilson reached the Washington McLeish ranch about eight o'clock one morning, several days later. As Reeves and Wilson wrote up to the ranch, they noticed only three men there. Jim Webb, a cowboy named Frank Smith, who was a trusted friend of Webb, and the ranch cook. Reeves had never seen Webb,

but thought he recognized him from the description and he had been given before leaving Fort Smith. To make sure that this man was Webb, however, Reeves and Wilson wrote up looking like any traveling cowboys. Just ask for breakfast. Webb was immediately weary of the men. Both he and Frank Smith had their hands on their weapons as Reeves and Wilson approached the porch. Bast had his best to convince the man that he wasn't, uh, wasn't anything to worry about.

You have to take care of the horses while they wait for breakfast. Then as he did, Web kept his, uh, his eyes on him. His fingers on his gun. Bast couldn't trick Web, who never dropped his gaze. Reeves was able to, uh, wait though Reb dropped his guard just enough for him to knock the gun away, wrap a big hand around the man's neck all while drawing his own pistol, putting it to Webb's face. He squeaked out of surrender as Bass choked him while he was also staring down the barrel

of Reaves's cold 45. In the meantime, Reaves' buddy Wilson was so overwhelmed by the suddenness of this attack. He was unable to react fast enough, wasn't able to seize Frank Smith, that cowboy who was Webb's buddy, even his web surrendered Smith world fired two shots at Reeves, luckily missing him both times with Reeve completely controlled by his left hand. Reeves now turned his half his attention to Smith, fired one shot. Smith fell to the ground, surrendered with a 45 slug in his stomach. On the return trip, Frank Smith died from his wounds. Smith was buried without ceremony Reeves, Webb Wilson traveled on to Fort Smith

Upon reaching for Smith Reeves placed Webb in the federal jail and proceeded to forget all about him But their story is not done it land with some hardcore Wild West Dine words. I love this shit Webb was given a hearing before the US Commissioner bound over for trial after spending almost a year in jail two dedicated friends Jim by water and Chris Smith Managed to get him released on $17,000 bond. And then when the time came for Webb's trial for murder, Webb was gone. And that $17,000 bond was forfeited. A Webb made bywarrant to dismiss investments worthwhile.

When Reeves heard the Webb had fled, you know, he did some poking around, learned the Webb made his way back to Indian territory, right away he's back on Webb's ass. Quickly he learns that Webb is hiding out of Jim Bywater a general store on the south side of the Arbuckle Mountains, home of Turner Falls, beautiful little waterfall and swimming hole. The store was located near where the whiskey trail entered the mountains and where a spring supplied large quantities of water. Now known as the ghost town of Woodford, Oklahoma. Some people

still live there, but not many. Reeves took a possum named John can trail with him around this time, and a man with some experience when it came to apprehending dangerous criminals, and a guy who knew how to handle himself in a fight. And Reeves and Cantrell came with inside a buy water store. Reeves sent Cantrell ahead to see if Webb was actually there. Cantrell rode ahead, slipped up to the store

and sure enough there's that GM Webb near one of the windows on the opposite side of the building. Cantrell eagerly silently motioned for Reeves to ride on up. One witness, a man named DC Gideon, described what happened next, saying, as he went dashing up, Webb espied him and jumped into the open window, armed with both revolver and windchester,

ran for his horse, that stood about 100 yards away. Reeves cutting off from his horse and Webb turned down a clump of bushes, ran about 600 yards, turned up and fired. The first shot grazed the horn of Reeves' saddle, a second cut, a button from his coat, and the third cut off both bridal reins, blow his hand, allowing them to the fall of the ground. As Reeves jumped from his horse, another bullet cut the brim from his hat.

This sounds a little bit far-fetched. Reeves then fired his first shot, and before a web could fall, had sent two Winchester balls through his body. At 600 yards? These fuckers are trading bullets? Just fuck outta here. Maybe I guess that's some legendary shooting. How far away they really were, it does seem certain that the two men got into a gun fight and that Reeves was the only man to survive it.

After being shot, Webb lay in the ground with his revolver in his hand. Colin Reeves come to him, Reeves advanced to him while keeping his gun trained on him. He and Webb, or he had Webb, tossed his gun to the side just out of his reach. Bass and all the witnesses walked up to the dying man in time to hear Webb say, give me your hand, Bass. He extended his own with an effort to grasp it and he continued, your brave man, I want you to accept my revolver and scabbard as a present and you must accept him. Take it for with that I have killed 11 men, four of them in Indian territory, and I expected to make you the 12th.

That's accepted the president, stored it away to show others later. This dying declaration of web was taken into writing by Mr. Bywater, the store owner, right, friend of Jim Webb, and then it's some serious wild west shit. How many of Reeves been so accurate? It's such a great distance? How is that even possible? According to one legend I came across he was all hopped up on the Whipple

Feeling a little soft on the saddle trigger finger a little hesitant aim a little shaky You let that outlaw put some fear into that hearty orce. It sounds to me like you're getting mighty low on Whipple. Wild West Edition. Pound a cannon, take control of your environment, made with rattlesnake venom, wolf blood, cactus needles, gun barrel shavings, bullets, belt buckles, moonshine, black gunpowder, orange juice, the scouts of inferior warriors, and a lot of whiskey saw! Whipple, Wild West Edition will return you back to being you.

Story or aim back to being true. Fuck you. Do not fuck your family. That's legal on these parts. And rig Whipple! Wild West Edition. Now available in brothel for pie juice and high noon. Wild Cherry Showdown Flavors.

Oh my god. Maybe the legend that I came across saying the bad dreams was hopped up on some wild westwipple was the one that I wrote and I would love to have some wild westwipple right now It was a real thing All right back to our timeline All right, I've take a little break again. Holy shit Now I don't have a shirt on the show. The year 1884 was a monumental one for Bass's career as a peace officer in Indian Territory. He was involved in several deadly shootouts with outlaws, had one tragic incident happening in his camp on one of his trips.

I have a couple of cool tales, a couple of cool tales to tell from 1884. On April 9th, 1884, Reeves and his posse made camp near Cherokee town in the Chickasaw nation east of Paul's Valley in current Garvin County. The posse had five prisoners in custody on the way east to Fort Smith, a heated argument broke out between Reeves and his cook William Leach. And then late that night, uh, wouldn't you know it while sitting around the campfire? Leach was accidentally shot right in the neck by Reeves and he soon died from the wound. Of course he did.

It was 1884 and he even shot in the fucking neck. Survival rate for that had to have been pretty low. According to Reeves, a cartridge got lodged in his rifle and while trying to extract it, the gun just happened to go off and a bullet hit Leach. Reeves sent for a doctor, but Leach didn't live long enough to see him. This incident would cause Reeves a lot of mental and financial misery later on. The popular story before and after the trial, which took place in 1887, was told by a group of deputy

US marshals who were median Guthrie Oklahoma, January 1911, in January of 1911, and it was recorded by an Oklahoma City newspaper. Here's an excerpt. Give me my best cowboy voice. Let's see. The way that was from, that was the Whipple. I have another cowboy. There we go. That's the right vibe. You recollect, when bass killed his cook,

hired all the good lawyers and forced Smith to keep them from being on the other side. You know, when they tried... They tried him for Jesus Christ, two years later. Well Bass was coming back and forced Smith with a string of prisoners, and heed that he allowed to carry a gun. Now Bass had a little dog that he was mighty fond of, carried him with him for all the time and had taught the dog to beg for something to eat by standing up on his hind legs. That cook got a grudge against Bass. While they were still several days away from Fort Smith and took it out on the dog. Bass was the way he told it, told the cook to quit several times and this must have made him sell it. One night

when the prisoners were lined by the campfire chained together with bass back on his elbows, with his wind gesture by his side, that little dog got up on his hind feet and danced up to the cook, begging with his front paws. The cook didn't do anything but empty a skillet of boiling grease down the dog's throat and grab for his pistol. Bass slipped his wind gesture forward quicker and it went right off in that cook's throat and grab for his pistol. The mass slipped his winch as you're forward quicker, and it went right off in that cook's face, and he pitched forward into the fire, bass didn't pay any attention to him for a minute,

since he knew he had winged him. We tried to keep a little dog, which was dying a few feet away. The bass saw the dog die, and then turned round to finish the cook, but found his bullet to hit him right in the neck and shot him in. His head so nearly off that when bass kicked the body,

it rolled into the fire. Ojangles just stood up on both his hind legs. The little celebration jick. He hates how the dog died but he loved how the story is ended. Praiseful jangles. That story is true then, uh, fuck that cook, you know, he poured boiling grease down a dog's throat, he deserved a bullet in the neck. Despite this killing being technically illegal, uh, you can't legally kill a man because he kills your dog. Reeves would later be found innocent because fuck that guy, and he'd also continue to work the trails as a deputy marshal after possibly serving six months in jail while awaiting this trial, which would take place in either 1886 or 1887. There's different accounts as to how he may have shot his cook.

This one that we just told was the version of my notes at least far and away my favorite and most interesting. So let's just leave the story where it's at onto another badass night 1884 Reeves bounty hunter tail now on August 28th 1884, the Muscogee Indian journal called Reeves one of the best marshals on the force and cover one of his cases favorably when he had to kill a man named Frank Buck when interviewed Reeves told the journal about another bounty hunt earlier that year, they put him into the tightest spot he'd ever found himself in. Reeves said, I can't focus.

You're doing good. I just can't, I can't, the words won't hold their shape. We're man. I just can't read. Ah shoot. Hey guys, it is the next day now. Back, the rest of this story is gonna be a little more cohesive. I know the first part, I don't think it was too bad.

But after what you just heard before I just pop back on here, the I couldn't read. I literally the words would not hold their shape in the screen. The room was moving too much. And then I went home and proceeded to trip balls for about 10 more hours. So I'll talk a little bit more about that at the very end of the episode right now we got we got more hours. So I'll talk a little bit more about that. At the very end of the episode right now, we got more Western. I don't know what happened to my Western shirt. Lisa have a shirt on right now. Things got pretty wild.

Okay, so, and then I'll talk more about this in the secret suck for you space as it's listening to time suck. We'll get into it. The Lindsay will come in and talk about babysitting me for the whole trip. It was quite the experience for her. I'm sure Here we go. Bass Reaves August 28th back up just a bit

1884 the Muscogee Indian Journal called Reeves one of the best marshals on the force and covered one of his cases favorably When he had to kill a man named Frank Buck when interviewed Reeves told the journal about another bounty hunt earlier that year They put him into the tightest spot he had ever found himself in Reeves said he was riding the seminole Whiskey Trail. Great name for a trail. Looking for two white men and two Negroes. This is, again, I know it's old-timey language. When he was ambushed by three outlaws known as the Brunter Brothers, who knew he was looking for them. They caught the legend off guard. He was lucky they didn't kill him when they did. They had their guns on him, made him dismount. He got down, showed them the warrants for their arrests. And then he asked them to tell him what the day of the month was. So he could report the proper record when he handed them over, right? Their guns

are pointed to him to the government. Well, they started laughing at him for having the balls to act like he was still going to arrest them when they had their guns drawn down on him. And when they laughed, they relaxed their guard just long enough for Reeves to strike. Reeves whipped out his six shooter, killed one of the Brunter Brothers, as quick as lighting, grabbed the gun of another brother in time to save himself from being shot, then killed a second Brunter while he was still holding onto the last living brother's rifle, and then Reeves struck that son of a bitch over the head with his six shooter and fucking killed him.

Hot damn, bingo bingo! Add us some y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y- Oh, their guns drawn down on them. They just ain't a fair fight. Boy boys didn't have a chance. Would have had better odds at trying to beat a grisly bear rastlin All right, October 17th 1884 now. Despite stories like these, not everyone thought Reeves was the best bounty hunter. The fort smith weekly elevator names these papers back then on On a cover of 17th reported, Bass Reeves, one of the most successful of the Marshalls doing business in territory, has been discharged from the force by Marshall Bolts. It seems he had a habit of letting a prisoner escape when more could be made than by holding him,

and that is where the trouble came in. It's a bounty hunter shit. There's a better outlaw to be had, maybe let another outlaw go. If Bass did in fact, lose his Marshall status, he didn't lose it for long. He'd be back at it the following year. Additional articles or blurbs attacking his character would show up in local papers from time to time.

Not surprising. I mean, he was a black man in America in the 19th century, and he was b, a dude who killed quite a few men, and arrested a fuck ton of others. That is a great way to make a lot of enemies. Most of the press on Reeves is positive. Often more wild West shenanigans now. On September 11th, 1885, Deputy Reeves received a warrant for the arrest of Fayette Barnett and the infamous female

outlaw, Bell Star. Bell Star was known as the bandit queen of Dallas. She ran an organized rack at a horse's thievery and staged coach robbery during her 16 year career as an outlaw. Bill and Fayette were accused of stealing a horse from Albert McCarthy, whom Reeves had arrested a few years earlier for cattle theft. Dude arrested everyone. He arrested people, then later arrested other people who wronged the people he'd previously

arrested. Cardi's horse was valued at $100. A lot of money back then. Nice horse. It was a been said numerous sources that Reeves and Star were friends and it is quite possible. He told her he had a warrant for her arrest. Oftentimes during his career, according to some counts, Reeves would tell acquaintances and friends that he had a warrant and for them to turn themselves in so he wouldn't have to go haul them around the country. On January 21st, 1886, Bell Star did that. She turned herself into Fort Smith at the federal jail, surrendered to the US Marshals there.

She stated that she did not propose to be dragged around by some federal deputy. This would be the only time that Belstar would surrender to federal authorities. She would be murdered three years later. There are several different accounts as to how it happened because Wild West, no shortage of legends and varying accounts. She died in February 30th 1889, two days before her 41st birthday, died violently. According to one account, she was riding home from a neighbor's house when she was ambushed. After she fell off her horse, she was shot again multiple times to make sure she was dead.

Her death resulted from shotgun wounds to the back, neck, shoulder, and face. Legend says she was shot with her own double-barrel shotgun. According to Scout Sheriff and Cowboy, Frank pistol-peat-eaten. shoulder and face. Legend says she was shot with her own double barrel shotgun. According to Scout, Sheriff and Cowboy, Frank pistol Pete Eaton, a dude who lived from 1860. Just think about this. From 1860 to 1958. Holy shit. Did that guy see the world change so much. According to him, her deaths was due to different circumstances. He said she'd been intended to dance and that Frank had just dance with her and then Edgar Watson clearly intoxicated then asked to dance with her.

And when Bell declined, he was pissed and he later followed her. And when she stopped to give her horse a drink at a creek on the way home, fuck her shot and killed her. According to again, Frank Eaton, Watson was tried to convicted and executed by hanging for the murder. Eaton, man, born before the Civil War, before it started, died not long before the US got involved in Vietnam. That has been nan, that blows my mind. He grew up when people were heading west on the Oregon Trail in wagons, said to have killed 11 men

in gun fights, and then he died when Elvis Presley was a rock star on TV, back to Bell's death. And that wingie-bongie Bell gunness Bell star Another story says that there were no witnesses and that no one ever was convicted of star's murder Suspects with apparent motive included her new husband Jim star a relative of notorious horse thief and killer Sam star Previous husband hers Both of her children are possible suspects. She let her rugged life As well as Edgar J Watson one of her sharecroppers,

because he was afraid she was going to turn him in to the authorities as an escaped murderer from Florida with a price on his head. Watson, who was killed in 1910, was tried for her murder, but was acquitted. And officially the ambush of Bell Star has entered Western lore as unsolved. So all kind of accounts, and apparently none of them

are believed by a lot of people. Back to Reeves now. Gonna jump ahead to 1889. After all the legal drama for Killin' His Cook was over and done with, Wild West Bubba Fett back on the bounty trail. In 1889, the Fort Smith Courts' Jurisdictional Land Area, largest in the history of the country, was broken up. Muscogee was now selected as the location for the first court in Indian territory.

But initially, the only had Jurisdiction jurisdiction over minor crimes while major crimes were referred to Fort Smith. Also in 1889 in Paris, Texas, the federal court for the Eastern District of Texas was given jurisdiction for the Chickasaw Nation and most of Chokta Nation in Indian territory. The writing was on the wall. The need for Reeves and his peers in the area was winding down to an end. There's some evidence that Reeves may have started working in Texas from time to time at this point. He'll move full time to Texas few years later.

One tale associated with Reaves on Paris, Texas from around this time is that of Tom Story. Tom Story Gang, or the Tom Story Gang, was one of the best organized of all the horse thief gangs in Indian territory. Tom Story Gang had talented members like Peg Legg Jim, awesome, Kinch West, who reported the road with William Quantrill, who you might remember for our Jesse James Suck, and a man listed in sources only as Long Henry, oh, Long Henry,

another expert in the fine art of stealing and disposing of horses. Also, yet another fucking outlaw poor name. So many here, fucking Long Henry poor name. So many here. Fucking long Henry. Add him to the list. The Saturday night at 9 p.m. Pacific time, midnight Eastern time on Penhouse. The premiere of Little Brothel on the Prairie, starring Sugar George, Ginger Lynn, Dick Glass,

Linda Lovis, Billy Steele, Kelly Nichols, Dick McLeish, Bambi Woods, and introducing Long Henry. Back now. From 1884 until 1889, Tom and his gang were devoted exclusively to stealing horses in Indian territory and selling them in texts. In either headquarters, somewhere on the banks of the Red River and Chicksaw Nation, and this strategic location allowed them to move in all directions to fully cover Indian territory in their search for horses to steal.

But then in 1889, they stole horses from the ranch of George Delaney, south of the Red River in Texas, a crime not committed on Indian territory, a crime Marshall's could and would pursue. The gang stole Delaney's whole damn herd. Horses, mules, drove them in Indian territory and search of a market. Lenny was quickly aware that his herd was missing. I mean, it sounds like something, did you notice? And the Tom's story gang was likely behind it.

He contacted the authorities and Bass Reeves, now serving as a deputy US Marshal in Paris, was given the warrant. Bass and his posse went out and searched the gang, made camp close to the Delaware Ben crossing on the Red River, deep in the brush that paralleled one of the major trails. The wait for about four days, killing time by hunting small game, doing some fishing. The camp closed to Delaware Ben crossing on the Red River, deep in the brush that paralleled one of the major trails. The wait for about four days, killing time by hunting small game, doing some fishing. We got word, the story was passing by and they let a trap for him. When story came through with two of Delaney's prized mules in hand, Reeves stepped out of

the brush and challenged him. Story dropped the lead ropes of the mules and surprised. Bass told him he had a warrant for his arrest and his one biographer put it. Not then and there Tom story committed suicide. More like suicide by cop. Tom tried to pull out his gun to get Reeves, but was gunned down before his weapon even cleared the leather of his holster. Reeves and Delaney buried Tom's story. They're along the red river. Delaney left home, taken his two mules with him. Bass went back to Paris, Texas and the story gang quickly disintegrated, never to be heard of again. So, dude, broke up a whole gang.

Following when you're in 1890, Reeves is now 52 years old, and he sets out to apprehend, perhaps the most notorious outlaw he ever chased. A man who was the most infamous Indian outlaw in the history of Indian territory, a Cherokee man named Ned Christie. Let's meet him real quick.

Ned was born in rabbit trap, a rabbit trap community of the Cherokee Nation, December 15th, 1852. He was elected to the Cherokee National Council as a legislator in 1885, uh, from the going snake district, pretty sweet name for district. Uh, Christie's father, what had taught him to be a blacksmith and a gunsmith, which was his trade by profession. And on May 4th, 1887, Deputy US Marshal Daniel Maples was shot by ambush and killed by whiskey peddlers in Talaquois, the capital of the Cherokee Nation. Maples have been sent to Talaquois from Fort Smith to curtail the liquor traffic in town. And Christie was accused of the murder, a charge he would vehemently deny for the rest of his life.

Christie vowed not to be taken to Fort Smith for a crime he didn't commit, put up a five and a half year struggle against the US marshals deputies that would come to be known as Ned Christie's war. Christie had family and friends, a system against numerous federal posses that were sent to capture him in the hills, the Cherokee Nation, local people called the general area Ned's Fort Mountain. And Ned did end up building an actual fort in those mountains. Chrissy put up a valiant fight many times. He would nick and wound a Laman, thought that he never killed any of them outright though.

In the fall of 1890, there was a $1,000 reward on his head for whoever Laman could bring him to justice, dead or alive. Bass Reeves led an assault on Christy's fortified home shortly after that reward was posted. Of the many articles and books written by the, about the hunt for Ned Christy, this assault by Reeves was never mentioned until 1991. On November 27th, 1890, the Veneta Indian Chiefton published the following story on Reeves' raid.

US Deputy Marshal Bass Reeves, a Fort Smith, with his posse, made an attack on the home of Ned Christie in the Flint district, and the outlaw stronghold was burned to the ground. Supposing that the owner had been killed or wounded and was consumed in the building, the news went out that he had met a violent death. But Christie had turned up to be alive and may cause trouble yet. It said to be on the warpath, fiercer than ever, and vows revenge on the marshal and his posse. And in the paper continued, Ned Christie is perhaps the most desperate character in the

territory and there is a large reward offered on his head. He has killed a number of men among whom might be mentioned the squirrel brothers also considered rough men. He has said to be a dead shot has alluded the officers of the law for about four years and says he will not be taken alive. But the squirrel brothers can find any extra information on them, not the most intimidating outlaw names. I have warned that trailfiles to you. It'll take your eye to the hideout of the squirrel brothers. Those brothers have been nesting in trees in these here woods for years.

And it's a bounty on their heads. If you did, sit on getting it, I'd wait to win to when they sleep most of the day and are a little slower on the draw. A lot of people who looked in the Ned Chrissy story think that a lot of the day and are a little slower on the draw. A lot of people who looked in the net Christie's story think that a lot of the claims of him being an outlaw are bullshit, that it was a conspiracy to frame him for murder and they wanted him framed because Christie was one of the most vocal critics against the railroads being given access to Cherokee Nation. Plus he was a member of the Kituwa Society, the most conservative element of traditional Cherokees.

Kituwa's believed in the maintenance of traditional ways of the Cherokee people. They felt that giving the railroads access would just allow more white people to come in and usurp Cherokee land and rights, and they went wrong. Standing up to railroads was a big no-no for Uncle Sam. Being against further settlement, well, that was akin to treason. Good way to get yourself killed. And Ned Christie was soon killed, shot down by by another posse of marshals at his mountain fort on November 2nd, 1892.

What a battle this was. Christie had rebuilt the fort that Reeves had burned down. Now it was double walled with logs, had sand packed between the two walls. It was bulletproof, had gun ports for rifles, and please stock with food, water, and ammunition so it could withstand a siege. It was formidable, but couldn't withstand a wagon load of dynamite. Christie was fatally shot as he tried to escape the burning ruins of his fort after part of it was blown up by a group of about half a dozen or so marshals in their possemen. Back to Reeves now.

Not long after his failed attempt to kill Christie back in 1890, Arya newspapers ran stories saying that Christie had gotten his revenge on Reeves and killed him. Was Bass Reeves finally dead? The Muscogee Phoenix on January 29th, 1891 wrote exactly that. Same day, the Euphula Indian Journal had a similar headline. But in the article, they actually wrote that they thought that the news of Reeves' death was a mistake. On January 31st, 1891, the Van Buren Press wrote, Deputy Marshal Bass Reeves was killed yesterday by Ned Christie near a talacool.

Reeves is well known in Van Buren, having lived here for a long time. His death was not unexpected to those that knew him. It's got a funny way to say it. He pisses a lot of people off, put himself in danger. But the death of Reeves was data by those who knew him best His peers at the Marshall's office at Fort Smith and the Skogie Phoenix followed up with another story February 5th 1891 by retracting their declaration and amending the record bass was still alive and still working still bringing men to justice During the 1890s bass started to see more black faces as law men in the region

Historian Newtie Williams who passed away 2003, stated that during the early 1890s, Bass Reeves police work in the Indian territory with fellow Black deputy US Marshal Grant Johnson was legendary. To be happy, don't have any of those tales to share. Regrettable that their exploits were not recorded or documented, and that a person who could speak about them are now deceased. And yeah, that historian's real name, Newtie Williams, the list grows, Billy steel, sugar George, Dick

Glass, Dick Mithlish, Long Henry, and now Newtie Williams. A historian speculated that Reeves was transferred officially to the Paris, Texas, Marshall, jurisdiction in 1893, leaving his home with three decades behind, possibly also leaving his family behind. Why Reeves left Fort Smith, not known, nor is the reason that he left his family. His wife would succumb to illness a few years later in Fort Smith. It was while serving the Texas court at Paris that Reeves patrolled in the various saloon towns of Potawatomi. Oh my gosh. Potta, oh yeah, Potawatomi, county and Oklahoma territory. Might have been where he took the only bullet

that we can find mentioned in stories about him. 74-year-old Charles W. Mooney, he's 74 now, a professor of law at the University of Pennsylvania Law School and an Oklahoma native has published several books touched on the history of Potawatomi. Potawatomi, that is a word, county. And he claimed that in 1895, Bass worked out of the US commissioners court, established at Paul's Valley, Chickasaw Nation. The court was under the jurisdiction of the federal court at Paris, Texas. And Mooney's book, Dr.

Jesse, which is about his father, Dr. Jesse Mooney, he stated, it was late in the summer. When a messenger wrote up for Dr. Jesse to go to the corner saloons on an emergency. The horseback messenger told him, Bass Reeves was shot in the leg and is calling for you. Dr. Jesse quickly sat on his horse, loaded his saddlebags of medicines and instruments and started on the 10 mile ride across the Canadian river into Oklahoma territory. As he rode his mind went back to when he first met Bass Reeves.

It had been about 8 years before at Bell Starr's house and Younger's Bend, where the fearless martial wrote up. Bell told the doctor that Bass Reaves was a good friend to hers, and that she trusted him. Dr. Jessie recalled at the time, it was an unusual sort of friendship because Bell Star was a spy during the Civil War for the Confederacy, and reported to Dr. Jessie's father. She was dedicated to the South. For Bell to have anything to do with a black man was unusual, let alone also be in a friend to a deputy US Marshal. When the doctor arrived at one of the three corner saloons, he found bass reaves half-standing, half-sitting on a bar room table. He'd been shot in the left leg above the knee. Still lying on the floor in a pool of blood was a

young gunslinger with his drawn pistols still in his hand dead What happened bass dr. Jesse asked Just another young gunslinger who doubted my ability with these six guns Marshall said he was real fast But like a lot of them they couldn't shoot both fast and straight These guys were fucking so much tougher than guys. I'm unbelievable The doctor soon extracted the offending bullet with his tweezer type probers then properly medicated and bandaged the gunshot wound Refusing the usual $3 fee. Dr. Jesse reminded the Marshall of their friendship right years and because both have been a friend of Bellstar There would be no charge for his service

Before moving forward. I love that the fee for traveling to meet a guy when he'd been shot and repairing his bullet wound with three bucks. That was the equivalent, looking at some old pricing charts of about 25 pounds of coffee back then, like 25 pounds of beans. No fucking way your doctor's belt today for bullet removal is gonna be the equivalent

of 25 pounds of what coffee costs now. The average cost per pound of coffee now is about eight bucks. Good luck getting your bullet surgery covered for about 200 bucks. And a house call at that. I mean, granted doctors were not as good back then. But still, just another bit of info illustrating how our current healthcare situation is so financially fucked. This account of bass reads getting shot, conflicts with many reports of him never getting shot at the time of Reeves death, territorial newspapers stated that he had never been shot during his long, long, enforcement career. Maybe this man, he never got shot while trying to arrest someone. This could have been

a random gunfight. Or maybe you can't 100% trust accounts of almost anything with all this because, uh, wow, West, jump ahead 1896 now. Fort Smith, Arkansas, the weekly elevator on March 27, 1896, carried a brief report that stated Mr. Bass Reeves, uh, the weekly elevator on March 27, 1896. Carried a brief report that stated, Mr. Bass Reeves, Mrs. excuse me, Mrs. Bass Reeves, died at her home in this city last Friday night. She was about 40 years old. She was actually 56, but you know, whatever. They almost got it right, only off by 16 years.

Maybe she looked really young. The cause of Jenny's death was paratonitis, resulting from cancer. The duration of her illness was about two years. Another personal loss also occurred for Reeves in 1896. Judge Isaac C. Parker, perhaps Reeves' greatest ally, died November 17th, right, this year, age 58 after battling with an illness for several months. Mass Reeves' great nephew, retired federal judge Paul L. Brady, described Reeves and Parker's relationship. They developed a very close working relationship in spite of the widely diverse backgrounds, one a slave, one a former congressman, one educated,

one who was not. Bass had no semblance of any formal education. They developed a very deep respect for each other. I think that perhaps this would base to pond their overriding sense of duty and Responsibility that they had learned earlier in their lives Perhaps with some Christian backgrounds and some Christian teachings because both were very versed in the scriptures from their early learning He convinced BAS to join him in helping to establish the rule of law over the rule of men and To bring law where there had never been any law before he reminded BAS that he would be in a position to serve as a deputy, to show the lawful as well as the lawless that a black man was the equal of any other law enforcement officer on the frontier.

Well, hailed judge Isaac Parker ahead of his time and place when it came to race relations. Numerous police. More 1896 info, 1896, not the best of year for Reeves. Sadly, many Americans were not nearly as interested in racial equality as Judge Parker. That would be deeply hurt by an 1896 US Supreme Court decision in the case of Plessy versus Ferguson. The case evolved from an incident that occurred

in Louisiana, June of 1892. 30-year-old shoemaker named Homer Plessy was jailed for sitting in the quote white car of the East Louisiana railroad. It was said that Plessy was one eighth black and seven eighths white, but under Louisiana law still considered an African American, therefore required to sit in the quote colored car. Plessy went to court in Louisiana over this and lost his case. He next appealed to the US Supreme Court, which ruled the precedent that separated facilities for blacks and whites were constitutional as long as the facilities were quote equal. The decision by the Supreme Court was quickly extended to cover many areas of public life such as restaurants, theaters, restrooms, public schools. All those decisions did not immediately

impact the Indian territory, Bass Reeves felt he had been betrayed by the US government. Yeah, buddy did. He'd been good enough to arrest betrayed by the US government. Yeah, but he did. He'd been good enough to arrest criminals for America for many years now, but still not seen as good enough to use the same bathroom as his fellow white deputy marshals. Not seen as good enough to go to the same restaurant, watch the same show to the air. Reeves now stand toward the rear at crowd gatherings. Now be nearly as vocal as he had been in the past and public. During the late 1890s, Bass and his late 50s now would spend less time in the saddle more time at a one horse carriage or walking a beat

Also by the late 1890s the white population of the area steadily heading towards Oklahoma statehood had grown to more than 200,000 from a total of 60,000 Indian Indian territory in 1875 On March 3rd 1893 Congress passed legislation authorizing negotiations with the Indians to the enrollment and allotment of their lands. Henry L. Dawes from Massachusetts was the chairman of this initiative, which became known as the Dawes Commission. Indians and freed men were given land allotments after enrolling, usually 160 acres, some received more, some less.

After all, the allotments were given, the Indian territory was open for settlement by U.S. citizens. This would bring about the end of the sovereign nations of the Indian Territory in Hacen, Oklahoma, statehood, which would be finalized in 1907. The end of the era for Laman-like Reeves, doing things the way they had done them, was coming quick. January 18th, 1900, Bass married Winnie J. Sumner, a previously wedded Cherokee-freeed woman originally from Talaquah and Cherokee Nation. All around the time, the Muscogee Phoenix started to write some pieces on Reeves. And one they talked about his over 3,000 arrests and discussed a dozen kills on the job.

And Bass still wasn't done. Bass Reeves was reappointed deputy US Marshal for the northern district of Indian territory, effective January 10th, 1902. An appointment sent by US Marshal Leo E. Bennett to the US Attorney General in Washington, DC on March 17th. Showed Reeves and John L. Brown as the two most senior men in the district with 20 years service or more. And that would be the year that perhaps his toughest case came about.

Reeves would be tasked with arresting his own son for murder. Reeves son Benjamin, Benny to his dad dad worked as a barber in the scogi. And one day came home to find his wife Cassie and Bed with another man. So, she's gonna say who this guy was. Hopefully not Billy Steele, Sugar George, Dig Glass, Dick McLeish or Long Henry. Benny less inclined to violence and his famous father forgave them. Overglass as a whiskey he later asked bass, what he would have done. And without hesitation the tough old lawman replied, out of shot the man and whipped a living god out of her. YEEK! Oh, okay. Some series 1902 old man getting tossed about there. It was clearly a very different time. Apparently,

the advice left a bit of an impression on Benny, and he would soon get his chance to take it. Soon thereafter, he found his wayward wife with yet another man, and he beat the man senseless, and then shot his wife to death. Holy shit, not in the forgiving mood this time around. Benny then immediately went on the dodge, as it was called into the nations, as word of murder of the murder spread throughout the city. Marshall Leo Bennett basses boss was reluctant to give the warrant,

but none of the other officers wanted the job to bring in basses son, and when Reeves insisted, he handed the assignment over to him. According to legend, and to Benny's sister, Alice, bass gatherers gear, settled up, set off in hard pursuit of his son. Two weeks later, after an arduous trek to the Oklahoma Hills, he returned with Benny in tow. Maybe an article in the June 8th, 1902 issue of the Muscogee daily Phoenix

states that Benny surrendered to his dad immediately after the slain. Benny was obliged to fill out a prisoner's agreement after his arrest and a response to the query, where and by whom were you arrested, Benny wrote Muscogee by Bass Reeves, my father, who was deputy marshal. Whichever way it went down, biographers agreed that the incident took a severe toll on the deputy now 64 years old, both emotionally and physically. I can't imagine. I can't imagine arresting my own son and for murder, no less, bringing him in.

But he was tried convicted, sentenced to life in 11 words, federal prison, bastard by his son throughout the trial, and then would visit him and regularly, regularly in jail. After nearly a dozen years behind bars, Benny sends would be commuted, whereupon he would return to Muscogee and live out the rest of his life in peace. But his dad would not live to see that. After the older Reeves died, the incident would be referenced in his obituary when the Muscogee Daily Phoenix wrote of his devotion to duty, equally, in that of the old Roman Brutus, whose greatest claim on fame has been that the love for his son could not sway him from justice. On November 16th, 1907, Indian Territory became Oklahoma,

the 46th US state. Days later, on November 20th, 1907, Bass Reeves legendary career as a US Marshal ended when the news state of Oklahoma assumed policing duties over Indian Territory. At age of 69, Reeves still not done as a lawman. Now he became a policeman for the city of Muscogee. Worked there for two years, shaking shit up,

according to legend, a drop in crime rates in Muscogee before failing health forced his retirement. And then just months after he retired, Bass Reeves died. January 10th, 1910, in Muscogee, Oklahoma, of rights disease, a kidney disease. Also called chronic or acute nephritis. He was 71, and that will take us out of our time suck timeline.

Good job, soldier. You've made it back. Barely. BASS MOTHERFUCKER REVES! What a legend. If half of the story's about this guy are true. You know, he was a real life gunslinger on par with Hollywood gunslingers, like Clint Eastwood's, man with no name.

From some of those surgey-o-liones spaghetti westerns. And he might have done even crazier shit than what we went over. God knows what has been lost to history. How many insane gunfights and wildtales would trackin' down in arresting outlaws are just ones we'll never know about. At least you know some of the story, and more and more people are learning about what's known about Bass Reeves in recent years.

Bass' legends have been on a long overdue path of rediscovery recently. 2011, the US 62 bridge, which spans the Arkansas River between Muscogee and Ford Gibbs and Oklahoma, was renamed the Bass Reeves Memorial Bridge. In May of 2012, a bronze statue of Reeves by Oklahoma sculptor Harold Holden was erected in Pentegrin Park in Fort Smith, Arkansas.

2013 he was inducted into the Texas Hall of Fame. Excuse me, Texas Trail of Fame. A little twist on it there. He's also been featured in a number of TV shows, documentaries, movies, video games, comic books, and recent years. There was a Bass Reeves character in the 2021 Netflix Western, the harder they fall.

I fucking love that movie. Delroy Lindo played bass. Fantastic working actor. I was been on the screen since 1975. If you don't recognize the name, you'll seem like, oh yeah, oh yeah, that guy, I love that guy. Play was created on her bass in 2019. In an episode of Drunk History, Comedy Central,

it was Steve Irkall, Jalille White, who comedically played Reeves, and in the recent Watchmen series, the character Will Reeves based heavily on bass. Also currently rumored that Morgan Freeman either was or is still in the process of making a mini series based on Art Burton's 2006 book about Reeves and a new bass Reeve show. This is just been announced is coming to Paramount Plus. Part of Taylor Sheridan's expanding Yellowstone universe of awesome Western series currently slated to be titled 1883, the bass Reeve story, a limited series starring Emmy nominated David O'Yellowa as Reeves. Another who actor who's been in a ton of

shit, a very highly decorated British actor who's been in a ton of shit, uh, very highly decorated British actor. I look forward to watching it when it comes out. I love those yellowstone shows. And totally random basses, great, great, great grandson is NHL player Ryan Reaves. Ryan's long been one of the NHL's best enforcers. A bit bass will be proud of that distinction. Uh, Ryan's a badass, you know, just like bass Reaves was.

Maybe not quite as much of a badass as Reaves was. Hard to live up to that legend Everything about Reeves legendary, right? He was a big man for his day with uncommon strength. He was 180 pounds you guys Still love that he was a master of firearms and an elite horseman He was so good at disguises and detective work that he was recently thought to be the inspiration for the lone ranger While most of the records on Reeves have been lost destroyed or never kept, there's clearly still plenty to show he belongs in the pantheon of America's Wild West heroes. One lengthy and glowing obituary for this universally respected man described him as

absolutely fearless and knowing no master but duty. And again, that sounds like some shit Sam Elliott would be saying a fucking badass, awesome western. Best Rees was an absolutely fearless, new, more master, but duty. His hard earned reputation carried him above his peers and how the man who feared him viewed race. And the wild west there was so much to be feared. Rattlesnakes, bears, infection, starvation, drought, disease, probably not LSD, definitely

bandits now lost. But if you were wanting outlaw, you weren't scared of nothing as much as you were scared of a bullet from Bass Reaves. He knew that one day or another, his gun would find you. And if you force him to pull that trigger, his aim would be true. What an interesting life, man. Glad I got to go over it and share what I know of it with you today. So yeah, motherfucker, let's head on over now to today's top five takeaways.

Time, suck. Top five takeaways. Number one, Reeves was the first or one of the first black marshals in the West. He is likely not as well-known as white counterparts simply because he was black, as were perhaps 25% or a little more of all cowboys. Still surprised by that number. Number two, Reeves dedication to the law was uncanny. While there are stories that he would occasionally let an outlaw go after maybe losing a better

in horse race, maybe finding a better bounty to pursue, he was so devoted to justice that he even tracked or rested and brought his own son in for murder charges Number three Reeves was such a badass that the 21st century theory of him being the inspiration for the lone ranger Is now the first thing you see when you google him I don't think he was the inspiration for the lone ranger But he was the only real life marshal in the west who could compare to the superhuman feats of that fictional masked man on the west who could compare to the superhuman feats of that fictional masked man.

Number four, Reeves reportedly brought in over 3,000 criminals, 3,000 men. Most from the tracks all over Indian territory before being brought in and killed maybe 14 to 20 of them, including his own cook. Number five, new info. As you mentioned, there were actually lots of black cowboys. These include men like Bose Icard, who is inspiration for the character of Deets in the novel Lonesome Dove, and John Ware and Bill Pickett, who were big audience favorites in some of the popular Wild West shows. Another black cowboy in note is Nat Love, born in 1854.

Nat Love was a former slave, who went on to become one of the most prominent black men of the West. Love grew up in Tennessee, where he learned how to read and discover that he really had a gift with horses. He traveled to Dodge City where when he was a teenager found cowboy work on cattle drives. Kim Crack shot out on the trail earned his original nickname of Red River Dick.

Of course, yet another dick in the story. Later found himself in Deadwood where he won a rodeo competition which earned him a new nickname. Deadwood Dick for fuck's sake. Billy Steel, Sugar George, Dick Glass, Dick McLeish, Long Henry, Newtie Williams, and introducing Deadwood Dick. According to his 1907 autobiography his life read like a John Wayne movie. Perhaps Deadwood Dick will be a suck for another time. We'll see how the spaces are to vote. That's all for now. Time to suck. Top five take away. Bass Reeves on acid. Tripping in the Wild West has been sucked. Now for some thanks, I had a little note originally. I was like, oh, I just wrote it myself for my notes. Talk about

how I feel on acid right now. Well, luckily I'm not, I didn't make it close to that note. I had a lot of confidence that I'd be able to pull off the entire episode. Again, I'll talk about at the very end a little bit about how the trip went. First some things, thanks to the Bad Magic Productions team. Thanks to Queen of Magic or Queen of Bad Magic Lindsey Cummins.

I got it, baby said to me for a lot of hours yesterday. Thanks to Reverend Dr. Joe Paisy for production and for such a peaceful calming energy. He really does. I've been there. You could be a LSD shaman. You could guide people through their trips. Take them on their trips. Follow me. I'll be sharing like a weird psychedelic robe.

Thanks to Bitelixer for upkeep on the Time Suck app. Logan the art warlock Keith. Create an emerge at Badmagicmerch.com And if you're running social with Liz the enchantress Hernandez Thanks to old script keepers act flanery for the initial research this week It was completed a long time ago bass is a bit on deck for a while Also thanks to the all-seeing eyes moderating the Colt the Curious private Facebook page Thanks to Becky Jesse the mod squad Reverend Dr Joe, making sure Discord keeps running smooth.

Also seeing more people in reddits on the time, subreddit. Next week, the spacers have chosen the DC sniper attacks for our sucking pleasure. DC snipers terrorized residents of Washington, DC, Virginia, and Maryland for three weeks on October of 2002. Coming up on exactly two decades ago. For three weeks, DC residents and people traveling through, lived in constant fear that they would be killed while only doing, you know, while doing daily activities

like pump and gas, waiting for the bus, maybe just walking across a parking lot. And total 10 people will be murdered, three critically injured, hundreds of FBI agents and local police officers worked the case. They were desperate to catch the man who had been dubbed the D.C. sniper or the belt beltway sniper and they had no idea how wrong

their initial sniper profile was. When it was all over 41-year-old John Muhammad and 17-year-old Lee Boyd Malvo would be arrested. The authorities now had to unravel the strange father-son relationship between John and Lee and uncover their motive for the shootings. John Muhammad trained Lee Malvo into becoming his own personal soldier. Lee became a killing machine who wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger on any target that John ordered him to shoot. How did that happen?

And why did John want anyone to kill for him? Why did he want to kill anybody? Next week we discussed John and Lee's lives before they became intertwined. They're very strange relationship and the 22 days of terror, they unleashed around the DC area.

Right now let's head on over to this week's Time Sucker Updates. First update of Raj Nishi update, Marvelous Meat Sack, Marshall, Visitor of the Antelope Compound, or what was left of it, and reports, hey there suck master comrade, long time The next day, I'm going to be doing a lot of things. I'm going to be doing a lot of things. I'm going to be doing a lot of things. I'm going to be doing a lot of things. I'm going to be doing a lot of things. I'm going to be doing a lot of things. I'm going to be doing a lot of things. for a testing company, we test anything that goes into construction from dirt to concrete and asphalt.

Well, a few years ago, not long after I started, I got a dispatch for Washington Family Ranch, and it was an early one. It had to be there 5 a.m. on a Friday on Halloween. When my dispatcher handed it to me, she says, have fun, that place is creepy. I looked up Washington Family Ranch, and the first thing that pops up, cult, cult, cult. Totally forgot about the Rajneesh. So I was pretty excited to go check this place out, about an hour drive to Antelope, about an 18 mile drive down a super steep, curvy dirt road to the compound.

Once I got there, everything that could go wrong with the concrete poor went wrong. Frozen water, frozen batch plant, frozen concrete trucks by God. But that gave the foreman of the job time to show me the compound. Talk about some heavy, heavy energy down there. All of the queen of the sucks crystals couldn't take it out the energy there. Sheila's house is still there along with the orgy house with the creepy dungeon. Most of all the other buildings have been torn down. New buildings put up. The A-frame houses way down the road where they quarantined people who got STDs are still there. All the construction workers stay stay down there and what's left of the old buildings and wow, they had some creepy stories. I can see why they chose that spot for a cult compound. It's isolated

as hell, but really pretty. The best part though is that if you even mentioned the Rajni's cult to any of the young life people that live there or they're based there now, they get really pissy. They're trying to forget what happened. Also almost got stuck out there. My truck started overheating as I was leaving. There is no cell service between the ranch and anilope. And as far as anilope itself, it has about 24 people live in there, probably the same 24, the stuck through all that.

Sadly, they still have to drive 75 miles any direction to get bacon Because the cafe is closed down along with every else everything else in town besides the post office Godhead said Sorry not sorry for the long email, but I also want to shout out my friend Matt who got me into time suck by wandering around at work Talking about stroking a soft shame cock and what this big deal Love everything you do wouldn't change the things three out of five stars Marshall Bedwin Love everything you do wouldn't change the things three out of five stars Marshall Bedwin PS good luck with my last name. LOL. Well, thank you Marshall. I probably did get wrong Boduin Boduin who knows? Did not know about the orgy room or the STD capins that tracks out

God, what a place to get to explore. I feel bad that those poor bastards in Antelope also yet lost their only cafe. And thanks Matt for letting Marshall know about the suck. Hail Nimrod to you both. Now blast from the time suck passed from scared sucker Michael Simons. I got that son of a bitch. He writes, you motherfucker. I'm currently Binging Time Zuck after catching

all the STDs. It's here it out. I've successfully dodged all of your misleads until episode 102, the Roanoke Brown recluse spider. Sounded so goddamn plausible, and your description of it was so goddamn nightmarish that I had to learn more. As I stared at an existing brown recluse wondering how heinous that death would be, to be mauled by these monsters, you dropped the reveal.

But this image had already nested in my hollow skull and I could feel them burrowing through my skull. And then you just keep whispering while this big deal, brown reekless, chica teelo smile or just wants to rassle, ignore my soft shame jaws. Motherfucker, you just bought it up again. Thank you, Michael. It's been a while since I dropped a new nightmare bug into the suck. That's still my favorite one.

Maybe. There is a certain ant. I don't know if you've gotten that far yet. I can a new nightmare bug into the suck. That's still my favorite one. Maybe there is a certain ant. I don't know if you've gotten that far yet. I came in with the ant is exactly that I also like to think about people believing in. Carefully don't find yourself near the wrong ant hill. Those fuckers, they will literally chew your head off. Hail Nimrod and I hope you continue to enjoy the suck. I hope I get you again later.

Sweet sucker to code and now has a request. She writes, I don't know if this would be the place to do it, but I wanted to try and see if this could be one of the notes for a show. My boyfriend, John Daniel and I first bonded over our love of time suck and we listened to them together. He's been listening for a lot longer than me, but looks up to Dan a whole lot.

He's one of his heroes. Oh boy. He actually is from Johnson City, Tennessee, home of the Johnson City, Tittle Whisper Dragon, And I got in that t-shirt for his birthday. His 18th birthday is going to be on June 9th. I think it would mean a lot for him to get wished a happy birthday from someone he idolizes a lot around that time. If so, thank you so, so much. Well, that is very sweet, Dakota. Happy belated birthday, young John Daniel, 18 years old, and you got a girl who cares about

you enough to write this uh, message in. Well, you're already fucking winning and you have so much life ahead of you. Go get it. Possibilities are so vast at 18. The possible life paths, nearly endless. I can be scary as fuck, you know, I can be a little overwhelming, but also exciting. Focus on the exciting part. Let it be magical. You know, let all your dreams live right now. They all have legs. They all have potential, unless you want to be an Olympic gymnast or a child actor, those are probably gone. But you get it. Now go run, young buck, go fucking get it. One more from awesome sack, Andy, but not really Andy. Not Andy writes, sir suck a lot, the suck master, the

suck nificate one, hail Nimrod, been listed into your sucks now for some time. I'm listed in from Egypt actually. I used to be very conservative Muslim for most of my life, but became agnostic in 2020 at the age of 18. I've seen the damage that my dogmatic beliefs had done to me. It's great listening to your podcast because I can see there are others out there who have an open mind, even if nobody in my immediate circle is like that Love your weird raunchy sense of humor. I got the same kind of crazy humor that makes you feel that you got some screws loose sometimes Hey, Lucifina just wanted to thank you for doing everything you do you beautiful bastard you magnificent little meat sack keep on sucking your top sucker from Egypt andy PS not really Andy

Just wanted to keep an anonymous. Wait a minute, Andy, are you telling me that the odds are low of a conservative former Muslim living in Egypt being named Andy Smith, actually, based on the email form. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I did think that was odd. When I first started around like, Andy Smith. Mm-hmm.

So glad you found a new tribe. The Fitzgy Moore, so let your phone with the Colt, the Curious, I relate. You know, a bit, so glad you're having fun with the Coltocurious. I relate. You know, a bit, I grew up in a tiny town I did. I often felt very alone with my ideas, my beliefs, felt like no one understood my beliefs. How I saw the world. There's a lot wrong with the internet, but a lot right too. Sometimes it connects people in the worst of ways, C, Q and on, flatter society, et cetera.

Sometimes it'll connect people in the best ways, like, like right here, right in this little cultic here is we got this island of misfit toys. I love that it makes you and many others feel less alone. You probably do have a screw loose too. Now, if you enjoy this show, like this humor, yeah, you're probably fucking weirdo, but probably the same loose screw that I've got. I love it. World's big place and while there may not be anybody close to you right now, there are so many people similar to you all over the world. I hope you find more of your tribe out there.

So hail Nimrod and hail, not Andy Smith. Thanks everybody for the bag. Tick-tick, two tries, but we gotta meet the ex. 300. So many stories, so many jokes. Hope you've enjoyed the ride thus far. Hope we can keep it going for a long time. Maybe don't hop onto a horse and ride off into the desert

trying to collect some bounties this week. She doesn't really work that way anymore and you're probably not cut out for it. You won't bring enough water. Your food's gonna spoil. You're gonna get lost. Stay the fuck home and keep on sucking. I'll talk about acid in just a second.

I'm not gonna be able to do it. I'm not gonna be able to do it. I'm not gonna be able to do it. I'm not gonna be able to do it. I'm not gonna be able to do it. I'm not gonna be able to do it. I'm not gonna be able to do it. I'm not gonna be able to do it.

I'm not gonna be able to do it. I'm not gonna be able to do it. I'm not gonna be able to do it. I'm not gonna be able to do it. I'm not gonna be able to do it. I'm not gonna be able to do it. And magic productions. Woo, wee! Okay. So, especially if you watched on YouTube and you saw where it cut after me having no shirt and had to jump back in here, here's what- Here's what happened when I couldn't continue the show with a little more detail. I was having trouble... Okay, in my experience, I've only done it a few times,

but my experience as it's like the visual hallucinations are very harsh, very, they can be very severe. And I remember having trouble before, it's been a long time, but it's with screens. Like my eyes, yeah, it messes with the part of your brain that's like how you interpret stimuli. And just like connects to little like, I can't think of all the terminology

right now, but like sensory things that like yeah, it truly does just like you're not seeing things correctly at all. And with like screens, I use a teleprompter just to be more conversational with the notes. And it went from when I was doing the Whipple, the Wild West Wilkmer, so that's when shit took a hard bend. And Joe talked about before, like seeing my eyes change when like the music kicked in, because you're perceiving music, you know, auditory hallucinations too. And it felt like I was in the Wild West.

And like each sentence I would read it felt like I got highlighted in a weird way on the screen. And then I was like visualizing what I was talking about. So I'm just like picturing like horses around, like I thought I was in a fucking spaghetti western. And it just, I was like, oh man, this is, it just took so much concentration to just read notes and to say these lines.

So that's what things got, I was like, oh man, things are really, really rough. Try to go a little further. I took a little break, I believe. Is that take a little break right after the Whipple commercial, Joe? Yeah. Right around there. Yeah, cause then take a little break right after the Whipple commercial, Joe? Yeah. Right around there.

I'm trying to, yeah, because then you didn't end right at the Whipple one. No. We just got up, came out here. I think you went for a little walk. We tried to. Oh, yeah, that was, I think that was, was it, did you, we did you just leave right after that or did you walk and then try to come back and record more? I think I went and grabbed water.

Somewhere around there, I came out, I drank some more water. I was, I felt like, the fog guys too hot. Sat back down, read a tiny bit more and then just had that pause that, Somewhere around there I came out, I drank some more water, I felt like I was too hot, sat back down, read a tiny bit more, and then just had that pause that people on video will see on YouTube before we cut to this. I was just like, I can't, like, sorry. And then after that, you wanted me to go outside, just to like, you know, get to see the grass.

And so Lindsey walked me outside and just kind of looking at and the grass felt good. It was a little bit much. I was like, Oh, no, it's like really common, like too much stimuli. And then I saw a Doug, our friend here in the building. And he knew what I was doing. So he's like, Hey, Dan, how you doing? And I just remember feeling so overwhelmed with like somebody trying to talk to me and be like, Oh, not great. that you're getting weird. And then I feel like I was too much to be outside.

Everything was starting to move and undulate in weird ways. We came back in, I was gonna try and regroup. Cause you were like, maybe if you can do this, cause you guys were like, I couldn't tell if I was making sense or not. And you guys like, actually the narrative is still holding. You were still progressing.

Yeah, yeah, it's still kind of mixed up. Your reality was not our reality. Right, right. So yeah, what I was saying was making more sense than I thought it was. And then I was like, okay, maybe I can go back in. And then above Lindsay's desk, there are some drawing a fan send in

of these little creatures. And it's just a still image. And holy shit, it was like a fucking animated, it was like a little on the paper, it was like a cartoon. Those things were fucking walking and moving and one thing in the back was like throwing thing, and I remember I think I asked you guys, I'm like, is that moving?

Yeah, you asked it and we were like, nope. And then he said, and it's not talking to me, right? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha We're like, we got to get him home. Yeah. We got to get Dan to a safe place. Oh my gosh. And then just like, you know, and we're going to talk about this more on the Secret Suck in depth, but just the quick cliff notes version. So Lindsey brought me home. And you know, with acid, like, the peak doesn't come for around four or five hours. So when I left the studio, I was about an hour and a half in, maybe hour 45 minutes in. So we got home, luckily it was a sunny day, like sunshine always feels, everything like bright and

just positive, like nature-wise, peaceful, feels good. Anything that even hints at darkness is fucking overwhelming. And it was way stronger than I thought it was going to be the double, two double doses, so four dose, it was too, too much. I should have just went half of that, but whatever. And then I was home and then I was just trying to find a six spot at home, but I remember, God, it was getting weird. I went down, Lindsay was the best caretaker.

I just went and laid in bed, but I felt like I was melting into everything. So it's hard to get comfortable, I kept getting too hot, and then I felt like I was gonna melt into the bed, I was almost worried for my safety. Like I was gonna be absorbed by the bed, it feels so real, makes no sense. And then I kept trying to go outside, and we'd be in the backyard, and then I was so paranoid,

I was just picturing the neighbors being like, that fucking weird drugie, look at that piece of shit out there, as he hard. And then I was just like. I was just picturing the neighbors being like that fucking weird drugie Look at that piece of shit out there. He's hard And then I was just like I would feel okay. I would lay down. We had some music going look at the sky But then sometimes the sky got too overwhelming like I was that high And it was just um going down to the basement. I had playlist I would like lay on the couch and like listen to these LSD peaceful playlists But then like sometimes that would get too much and I just kept having to like move around and then oh my gosh

couple hours in I kept having to go to the bathroom and I at one point I was worried that I wouldn't be able to go to the bathroom on my own. I didn't even tell Lindsay this yet but I was like I would just try to pee into a toilet but I couldn't the toilet was so tiny like like a shrunk. And now I ended up just peeing on the floor. And then I'm trying to like clean the floor. And then I don't feel like I had to go, you know, like another kind of bathroom, right? I'd go poop or something. So then I would like sit down. And then I'd like, I couldn't even figure out if I could wipe my own ass. And then I remember one time I didn't even tell it, I just like took everything

I was wearing like threw it into the corner, so I was worried about peeing on my own clothes, and just trying to clean myself, I washed my hands so much, trying not to look at myself in the mirror, like everything was fucking bending and warping so hard. Anything that had little people on images, like they were like moving around,

holy shit, the visual hallucinations were hard. So, I mean, I dropped out yesterday at 1.30 in the afternoon. I was fucking high until 1.30 in the morning. I would say by 8 o'clock, it was manageable. From 1, from 4 to 8, it was like I was on another planet. It was, I was not fucking sane. Like I might as well have been in the silent. I couldn't communicate properly. My emotions roll over the place. I'll get so sad and then so happy. Truly a space cowboy. Truly a space cowboy.

And when people get to watch this episode, the transformation from where you started to where we had to take a break visually, I was going back and editing it. It was killing me. I was lost it. I couldn't even finish editing without crying. Oh my God. When you showed me the picture when I came in where I said like, what I say, like, oh, shoot, I can't. You know, you said you said, I can't read.

And then you tried one more time. Yeah. Then you said, ah, shoot. And then stood up and just walked off. He's got out of there. And I think that time I had no shirt on. And I got a shirt on. And my boy had eyes where his...

My pupil... Why does they possibly be? He's gonna pass you. It's like my whole eye was pupil. And I look so insane. I was thinking about like if I... Like if I committed any crazy type crime, they would just have to show the jury of that picture. They're like, fuck, he fucking did it.

Look, he's not, look at him. He's not- He'll kill the whole bus full of kids. Yeah, look at the way. And he's like, exhibit A. Yeah, all right. You guilty? Guilty?

That guy's capable of anything. But it was so fun. It is a drug you don't wanna take lightly. I'm glad I would have had Lindsey to watch me. If you're listening to this and thinking about doing it, man, you've got to have somebody there with you. You've got to have somebody to make sure you're safe. There's a, I feel like there's a lot of urban legends.

I mean, if you're under the age of 35, there's a small chance, maybe a tiny chance over the age of 35. Did it could like activate, like underlying mental health, conditions like schizophrenia, pretty underlying mental health conditions, like schizophrenia, pretty low odds, most of that has urban legend stuff. The real danger is that you just don't understand reality.

Like, you know, you could hurt yourself, kind of thing. You know, just not understanding what's around you. I do remember, luckily I was never so messed up, I was worried about that. But I remember like, I went to the bathroom and then we like candles. So nobody had to smell bathroom that. But I remember like, I went to the bathroom and then we like candles. So nobody had to smell bathroom stuff. And I remember like looking at the little torch

and just having a thought of like, you shouldn't touch that. You gotta stay away from fire right now. This is my skin real. Ha ha ha. Only one way for you to find out. Oh my god. Exactly.

Oh, by the end, and then so random, as I was coming down, but while I still was high for several hours, I couldn't process much of anything But Lindy's like we never watch comedies that often and she's like let's watch Ted Lasso And I watched the first three episodes of Ted Lasso and I was laughing hysterically It is a good show. It is a really good show It was so happy and I loved his character so much Jason today guys. I was like, are you so sweet?

He's such a nice guy. Why don't people love him? I remember sharp things being squishy. Did you ever have to run into that like the corner of a table or like I was like, are you so sweet? You such a nice guy, why don't people love him? I remember sharp things being squishy. Did you ever have to run into that, like the corner of a table? Or like any sort of like just sharp angle, I could push it in. No way, oh no, I didn't have that tactile. Yeah, luckily I wasn't around a bunch of knives

because I probably would have tried to be like, can I push this too? Yeah, my thing, one of the weird things that was the creepiest was, I don't know what they would call it I'm sure on some forums I could find the terminology, but I would call it like imprinting We're like a pattern you've seen somewhere else gets put overlaid on like maybe like the person you're talking to Yeah, all those wiggly layers. Yeah, like when I was talking to Lindsey for a while it was freaky me out It looked like she was decomposing. Oh, that's fun. It was fucking terrifying

for a while it was freaky me out, it looked like she was decomposing. Oh, that's funny. It was fucking terrifying. That was in the midst of it. And I was like, this is fucking, then I got in a weird death cycle where everything like if I looked at flowers, they would wilt.

It was so fucking terrifying. That's not, well, for the most part, what would you say was 90, 10? Good bad. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I would say 90, 10, 80, 20, you know, good bad. Cause then later it was so cool. Like before I went to bed last night. We had these little flowers

I don't even know what they're called Shit doesn't matter. But these flowers on our on our table and they they look You they remind me of sea anemies those little things that undulate and I would look at those and they would just kind of like like vibrate and like everything plants, it looked like they were just so alive. And then these trees in the backyard, holy shit. My eyes still are not processing color the same way. Like if I went out and looked at a tree right now, it would be twice as beautiful as I would normally

think it was. I think we've talked about that with shrooms. It changed my life. Me being colorblind. Oh. So all the colors are super dull. Months and months after doing it, green was so much brighter than it ever was

prior to doing mushrooms. That's great. Man, the psychedelics, what a fucking crazy, crazy classification of drugs. And I do think about, and I didn't look into this, so this is not a research part, this is just me talking, but like, you know, LSD comes from, well, they found it like,

from like Urgot poisoning. It's like this, like in medieval times, people would trip on LSD comes from, well they found it like, from like Urgot poisoning. It's like this, like in medieval times, people would trip on LSD, they just wouldn't know they were taking it, they would just get this Urgot poisoning and it's like this fungus that would grow on, like, rye and wheat and stuff, like a virgin of LSD, like not as pure, but people would eat this and like, so like if the town, if a village is like store

of wheat, rye, barley, whatever like that that got this fungus in it there were certain cases where basically the whole town for like a week they just wouldn't know what was happening all of them fucking tripping balls. That is so wild if you've done this to think about like how a whole village and nobody knowing why is this real I don't know and knows what's real Oh my god, that's a that's a comedy. Yeah great show So wild times it was it was fun to do and Thanks everybody for for listing and who knows what will happen for 400. We'll see hopefully we'll hopefully we get a couple more Hundreds in there. I did see wait until 420 and they just getting super baked

Yeah, I haven't done a baked one. That's true. I haven't done that you'd be able to get through that one true But I mean obviously not as hardcore is dropping four tabs LSD, but That might be better show that I was like, okay, I kind of like that. I like that actually that a better show That would be good because I thought about Molly, but I don't know if that would translate to an episode. You'd love doing it. Right. You'd be pumped about it. Be pumped, be super excited,

especially if it was like a happy topic. Wishing you had someone to talk to you. Just, I'd be a lot of like, for the people watching, a lot of rubbing the desk, just like really just kind of probably rubbing myself. Oh, it was so hard. I also wanted to like leave you yesterday. I kept wanting, when I had my shirt off,

I kept wanting to rub my nipples. I saw those hands creeping up there. I was like, oh, he's doing it. Oh, my God. That was the first telltale sign of someone who's on LSD was nibble rubbing. You're like, oh, I can public. Don't rub your nipples.

Don't rub your nipples. Everyone's gonna know. Everyone knows who you're gonna do. We'll know if he't rub your nipples. Everyone knows Anyway, glad you're back. Oh, thank you Joe. Bye