I guess I won’t ever forget what I saw happen at Shamrock more than seventy years ago. I can still remember it like it happened just yesterday. I recall every bullet, every name, and every drop of blood. I remember what I saw and how I felt that day. Was I afraid? Certainly. I was only nine. Greater than my fear, however, was the awe and respect I felt for Jim Brown. Jim was the sheriff of Shamrock and that day he became my hero. Two years after the incident I still pretended to be sheriff Jim Brown. I wore out three sets of cap pistols and used hundreds of boxes of caps replaying the events of that sizzling hot Sunday in Montana back in August of 1889.
Even for Montana, Shamrock wasn’t much of a town. We had a false front general store and three saloons. The white wood frame school building only had one room; and it also served as a church on Sunday. A barely readable white sign, with the words “Savoy” painted in fading black letters, hung lopsided above the front door of an abandoned building that had once been a hotel. Although everyone said it was haunted, no one ever reported seeing a ghost. If there are such things as real ghosts, however, I am sure it is haunted now, because a lot of men died inside the Savoy Hotel that day. Down Main Street from the Hotel were the train station and a livestock yard called The Shamrock Corral. The sheriff’s office was attached to the jailhouse, mostly only used to hold drunken cowboys until they sobered up over the weekend.
There were neither gravel nor paved roads in Shamrock. Even Main Street was nothing but dust in the dry season. When the rain came everything turned into a nasty, sticky, clay-like, mud called gumbo. This gumbo would build up so thick on your feet that you often got stuck and walked right out of your boots.
When the Wheeler gang rode into town early that Sunday morning, everything changed in Shamrock. Folks quickly abandoned the normally peaceful street; and some even locked themselves inside their own homes. Although the saloons were all empty, they remained open for business because the barkeepers feared closing their doors to the Wheeler boys. The Wheelers were just plain mean; and they were all cold-blooded killers. I should have been locked up at home with my mom and the twins; but mom had run to the sheriff’s office so my younger brothers and I hid inside the empty Savoy building.
It was common knowledge that mom was sweet on Sheriff Jim and that was why she had gone to the jail. She wanted to beg him to avoid getting involved with the Wheelers. Her idea was that if you just left them alone they would eventually go away. That seems to be how a lot of folks react to trouble, but Jim wasn’t like-minded. Jim held warrants for all of the wheelers, ranging from bank robbery to murder. Mom told me later that Jim and his deputy, Owen Young, were making plans on taking the Wheelers when she walked into his office. In fact, Jim got so mad at her “crazy woman talk” he locked her up in a cell. Then he and Owen walked out to the street so he wouldn’t have to hear her yelling. I watched from my hiding place in the Savoy, as he and Owen walked the streets, talking and making plans.
Owen was young, in his early twenties, but he was mighty handy with his gun. He was one of the bravest men I ever knew. Mom said he was just “young and dumb” but I believe he was more than that. He respected Jim Brown and he respected the law. Jim had taught him to shoot and ride and other important things a man needs to know. Owen was orphaned at age twelve when a gunslinger shot his dad in the middle of the street; and Jim had somehow become a father image for him. When he was nineteen, Jim made him his deputy.
The Wheeler gang was staying on the opposite edge of town by the corral and Jim had not reached a decision on how he wanted to deal with the situation. Most of the town’s men were out working the herds or locked inside their homes with their women and kids, so it was unlikely he could form a posse. He and Owen either had to face the Wheelers by themselves or follow mom’s philosophy and ignore the outlaw gang until they decided to go away. I knew he wouldn’t ignore them, as I watched from my hiding place upstairs in the haunted hotel. I had found a good spot to watch from because I didn’t want to miss anything.
It looked like the tide was about to turn when a small posse of five men, led by the sheriff from Glasgow, rode into town. He talked with Jim and I could tell they were arguing about something, but I couldn’t hear what. I made my brothers promise to stay put and not make any noise while I found a better listening spot.
Jim was talking to the sheriff from Glasgow and said,” I couldn’t let you do that. It’s my town and I’m responsible for what happens here. If you and your cowboys go tangling with the Wheelers you will all be dead in five minutes or less. Those men are all professional shootists. Any one of them could take out your cowboy posse all by himself. You may last longer, but I don’t want your blood on my hands, or any of it spilled in my town. This is my jurisdiction, so take your men and go back to Glasgow.”
“What are you going to do then?” asked one of the men. “Are you just going to let them ride out of here free?”
“No! I’m afraid I can’t do that either,” said Jim.
“What then?” asked the sheriff.
“Ain’t decided yet,” Jim answered.
It was just about then that things started to happen. One of the gunmen from the Wheeler gang must have gotten nervous when he saw the posse ride into town. A shot rang out from the shamrock corral and one of the deputized cowboys fell from the saddle and lay on the ground without moving a muscle.
“Jeezus Che-rist!” Shouted the sheriff. “Nobody shoots that good. …Must have been a lucky shot. Spread out men and take cover.”
“That wasn’t luck!” Jim said, as he and Owen stepped into the shadows of the alley. “I think you should take your men and ride out of here while you can. I can’t promise to protect you.”
“Okay men! Mount up and ride out if you want to. I’m staying to do what I came here for,” the sheriff said. He pulled a rifle from his saddle holster and started walking toward the corral. Twenty steps later he was dead.
One of the cowboys said, “I have a family! I don’t need to die here.” He mounted his horse and rode away without looking back. The other three cowboys followed and you could hear laughter and cat calls coming from the corral.
“I don’t think we have any time left for planning,” said Owen. “With one sheriff and one deputy dead, the time for action has come.” Having said that, Owen ran across Main Street in a zigzag course. Just as he reached the corner of the Savoy, a bullet ricocheted off the awkward sign hanging over his head. Owen dived and made a forward roll. When he landed upright on his feet he fired two slugs in the direction from which the ricochet had come and a man fell from the roof of the stationhouse.
Across the street Jim Brown was moving toward the stationhouse. He successfully dodged two rifle bullets, which tore into a hitching post in front of the Montana Saloon. Owen fired again at the shooter, only this time he missed. Jim took notice of the direction Owen had fired and waited until the shooter was exposed. He picked off the outlaw with one shot.
“If I counted right,” called Owen, “that leaves seven more!”
“Is that all?” replied Jim. “That hardly seems fair. We just about outnumber them. Do you think one of us should go home to even it up?”
“That’s okay,” Owen said. “Stick around; I enjoy the company.”
Zip! Twang! The bullet soared past Owen’s ear and lodged into a water barrel, spitting splinter fragments that creased the bicep on his right arm.
“Dang! That hurt,” he said. The sharp pain brought tears to his eyes, but he didn’t flinch.
“I’m going for the stairs!” Jim said, signifying his intent by pointing to the outside staircase with his index finger. “Cover me!”
Owen loaded both pistols and started a rain of bullets in the direction of the Wheelers, while Jim ran toward the stairwell. When he reached the last five feet, he dove and rolled into the cover of the bottom step. There had been no return fire so Owen fired two more cover shots and followed him. Before he reached the steps, however, a bullet ripped through the meaty part of on his shoulder, causing a painful flesh wound.
“How bad are you hit?” Asked Jim, as he pulled Owen to the protective cover of the steps.
“I don’t know, but it hurts like hell,” replied Owen. “Throw some dirt on it and it’ll be okay if the bleeding stops.”
Both men stayed low for a few minutes while Owen dusted his wound with Gumbo dust. I watched from my hiding spot under the boardwalk and saw that when it mixed with blood it dried on him like a mud cast. Then I heard Jed Wheeler call from someplace upstairs in the hotel.
“We’re all here, Brown! … Seven of us and only two of you. We’ll blast anyone who even tries to enter this building. Why don’t you and the boy just go away and leave us alone. We’ll be out of here tomorrow? Let’s both reduce our losses while we can.”
“You calling it a standoff?” Asked Jim.
“Why not?” Said Jed. “We’ll pick up what we come for and leave you and your town alone. All we want is what’s rightfully ours anyway.”
“What is it you came for?” Asked Jim.
“Nothing but an old suitcase my boy Jacob left in the hotel,” he said. “It’s our property and that’s all we want.”
“That suitcase wouldn’t be filled with money you got from that Glasgow bank job, would it?” Asked Jim. “I’m afraid I can’t let you leave with that, Jed. It’s better that you surrender than die for a few hundred bucks.”
“Ain’t nobody going to surrender today,” Jed replied. “We’d all just swing from a rope anyway. No sense you dying too, Sheriff.”
“Well, that’s what I get paid for,” said Jim. “So I guess there ain’t much else to talk about.”
Jim whispered to Owen to go back to the jailhouse and bring him two boxes of shells.
“If you make it,” he said, “grab a scattergun and bring that too. I’ll wait here and make sure no one goes anywhere.”
“Will do,” said Owen “But first I need to do this.”
‘he took careful aim, holding his side arm with both hands and squeezed the trigger, getting off two rounds. One of the Wheeler gang dropped off the roof in a forward tumble and hit the ground. He was dead before he landed.
“Now there’s six,” he said. He slipped around to the back of the room and disappeared.
It was just about then that I remembered the twins and started to worry. They were hiding in the same building with the outlaw gang. I didn’t know what the Wheelers would do to two seven-year-old boys if they found them, but I didn’t want to find out. I crawled from my hiding place over to the body of the man who had just been shot and I searched around until I found his pistol. I filled the chamber and went around to the back of the hotel where us boys had made a secret entrance through the fireplace. I don’t know exactly why I took the gun because I had never used one, but I thought I might need protection if the wheelers discovered me.
It took me several minutes to climb up to the third floor through the fireplace chimney. But fifteen minutes or so later I was inside a bedroom next to the room where the twins were hid away in the closet. I knew that the best chance any of us kids had was to be absolutely silent. Any noise would give us away for sure. At one point I had heard a lot of shooting and a few cries of pain. I knew some people had been shot but I didn’t know who and I didn’t know if anyone else had been killed. My only concern was to get to the twins somehow and make sure they were safe.
Pretty soon I heard the familiar voice of Jim Brown calling to Jed and I took comfort knowing that he had not been killed in the shooting I had heard. When Jed yelled back his reply, I took advantage of the racket to make my way into the room with the twins. They were both safe where I had left them and to my surprise they were both fast asleep. I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard Jim’s reply to Jed. Apparently I had missed a lot more action than I thought while making my way into the hotel.
“Looks like it’s down to two against two, Jed. It’s still not too late to toss away your guns and surrender to the law. We’re coming in now.”
I couldn’t resist the temptation to go to the window and look to see what was going on. Jim was halfway up the stairs. He had a sawed off ten gage scattergun in his right hand. I noticed it even had a pistol grip. I didn’t see Owen but I could see Jim making signs to him with his free hand. It was clear that Owen was down below in front of the hotel. He must be going to enter by the front door. I heard someone in the hallway just outside the door where the twins and I were hiding…except I wasn’t hid anymore. If someone came into the room they would see me for sure, but they might not find the twins in the closet right away. I saw the door handle turn just about halfway, but it wasn’t actually opening yet. Whoever was outside in the hall must just be standing there with their hand resting on the door handle, undecided upon what to do.
Two shots rang out from what sounded like the lobby downstairs and I heard someone cuss.
“Did you get him, Jed?” The man outside my door asked.
“’Yeah!” called Jed. “I hit him but I don’t know how bad he’s hurt. Com’on down here, Lenny.”
“There was a snapping sound as he released the door handle and I heard him running down the hallway away from the room. Lenny was going to see what Jed wanted. I couldn’t hold back. I just had to see what was happening. I opened the door slowly and slipped from the room. I know I didn’t make a sound as I slipped down the hallway to the top of the indoor stairway. I suddenly froze from pure fear when I saw two men lying on the stairs, covered with blood and their eyes staring at the ceiling. At the bottom of this stairwell, on the second floor of the hotel, Jed and Lenny were watching out a window, which gave an excellent view of the outside stairway. They were watching Jim Brown inch his way up the stairs. I could even see him from where I was standing. They both were drawing a bead on him and he didn’t have a chance. Without taking any thought at all, I screamed.
“Look out, Jim!” The cry that came from my lips was so automatic that for an instant I didn’t even realize it came from me. But Jim heard and reacted quicker than a cat about to get smacked for jumping on a kitchen table at lunchtime. Guns were blazing and bullets flew everywhere. Jed had turned toward me and fired two shots, but I had already dropped to the floor and the bullets whizzed over my head. Jim had literally jumped through the window and was flying through the air, all the while shooting. He had the scattergun in one hand and a pistol in the other. Lenny was laying on the floor bleeding, but I couldn’t tell if he was dead or not.
What scared me more than anything in the world was that when I watched Jim fall to the floor he was bleeding from the chest and leg. He hit the floor hard amid flying glass and debris, but he never landed on his feet and he never got up.
I never noticed Jeb Wheeler at first. I was still stunned and in shock at seeing Jim go down so suddenly. When I looked up at Jeb I noticed the strange look on his face. I have never seen a look like that before or since. His pistol was aimed right at me and his hand was pulling the trigger, but the click! Click! Click! Told me he was out of ammunition. His eyes were cold and mean, the meanest eyes I have ever seen. The look on his face was disbelief. He was talking to me, but all he said was, “You! You! You!” I didn’t understand what he was trying to say, but suddenly he fell forward and landed right at my feet.
I hadn’t seen where the bullets had entered his chest because the holes were too tiny and there wasn’t much blood. But when I looked down at his back where he lay motionless on the floor, I could see where the bullets had exited the body. There were three holes big enough for me to stick my fist into. Some bullets do that; you know-- enter through the tiniest of holes and go out the other side leaving holes the size of caverns.
Oh! I saw another thing when I looked down at the body. I could see my hands and in my right hand was the gun I had taken from the dead outlaw in the alley. The pistol was hot in my hand and smoke was streaming from the barrel. The bullet chamber was empty. I noticed that my hand was white from the strength with which I gripped the gun. I looked down again at the first man I ever killed and my mind sort of went numb. I was still numb when Owen came over and took the pistol from my hand. Owen kneeled over Jim and after a minute he spoke.
“Well, he’s still breathing. He poured some water over his head and threw some in his face. Pretty soon Jim coughed and pushed his lanky body upon one arm so he was more setting than lying.
“Are you alright?” Asked Owen.
“Guess I’ll make it. How about you?” Jim replied.
“Okay, I guess.”
“Let’s get the hell out of this place then,” said Jim. “I’ve got a lady to let out of jail before she gets mad enough to kill me before I can ask her to marry me..”
“Better look in here first,” Owen said. He opened the bedroom door and two small boys with sleepy eyes were grinning out at him.
I guess I won’t ever forget what I saw happen at Shamrock more than seventy years ago. I can still remember it like it happened just yesterday.
