Howdy Dave & Pleasure to meet your acquaintance Kathy, Ya Hooo! I've got a brain twister question that you 2, or possibly one of your 3.6 million followers might be able to help me out on. I am in possession of a layered copper negative portrait, mounted to a wooden block. It's small, 3 1/2" x 2 3/4" (block) with a vertical oval likeness that I think I'm supposed to recall. Initially, Wyatt Earp had seemed an obvious tag, but I took my time, in a hurry. And decided,....naw. And figurin' y'all have seen pert-near every famous, or semi-famous mugs, you're my "Old West" life line. Yee Haw!! I'm tryin' to find a way to drop off a snapshot of said gentleman. One dude who I know does not remotely resemble the copper negative, is my non-relative Butch Cassidy. But wouldn't that be sump'm!! Hopefully you'll see this soon, because inquiring minds, are inquiring. Much thanks! (I know you're holding your hands out, palms up, sayin, "So where's the face that's backwards?" Well, I'm still lookin for an address to send to. Gimme a minute. Right On! JC in the San Fernando Valley
Enjoyed your description of Wildorado Texas on old Rt. 66 West of Amarillo. Excellent summary. My mother was the daughter of Harry Elam who owned the general store and part owner of the bank that got robbed many times by Borger outlaws. He finally started sleeping in the store and shot back. Killed one of them. The family moved from Wildorado to Amarillo and my Mom left town in WWII to attend Texas Tech where she met my Dad, Donald Chapman. Good memories you shared.
nice to meet ya all and a pleasure to be here
My paternal grandmother was born around 1886 in Christian County, KY. Her daughter (my Dad's sister) said that one of grandmother's parents was born in Hopkinsville, KY during the two day layover of the Cherokees on the Little River here in Hopkinsville. After the birth the mother was moved on along with the rest of the Indians and the baby (one of my great grandparents) was given to a black family to raise. We have a Trail of Tears Park here and are on the National Historic Trail of Tears route. Two Chiefs who died here during the layover are buried here with a monument. My Dad was my grandmothers last ( of ten.) child, so grandmother died in 1978, before I had any thought of asking her personally about her parents. Geneolgy was not so much of a thing forty and fifty years ago. I presently live in the last remaining family homes here, about 2 miles from the actual site of the layover.
all that can be seen is there for all who may come to see and witness it, it is sad in the heart to think that one brother human being would call to kill all his brother human beings to own that which was ment to be shared by all who came to see and witness the gift of the great spirit.
IMet a fair maiden who knew the legend of Charlie and John.Iguess its fear of reincarnation or a plain haunting that gripps the young lovers of folk lore,.Those who cant escape thru old folk songs but get foreverdrawn into stories so horrible.
My great-great-grandfather and his family were among the first settlers of Bannavck, spending the winter of 1862-63 there among the 300-400 souls who landed there after gold was discovered. He was the Miners Court judge and ran a hotel during Bannack's heyday; his children attended Lucia Darling's school. I visited Bannack for the first time in July 2014 and love these pictures...
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