Part 1:
Well, shoot!
Burn the breeze.
The school year?
Just about done.
Less than a month to go!
I like school and all, sure.
But I like summer vacation better.
Yet before it was over, there was one last assignment.
One last report.
Our history teacher, Mr. Soames, assigned us the final project of the semester.
We were told to write a report on some element of local history.
Any topic we wanted.
I went big.
The biggest story in all of Town Worth!
The long-lost guns of The Checkerboard Kid.
Sure, you’ve probably read about him – and them – a thousand times before.
Will Eckerson, aka The Checkerboard Kid.
Famed bank robber turned lawman turned smitten cowboy who found his true love and spent his last years in Town Worth.
But ... whatever happened to his legendary guns?
Two pearl-handled revolvers with a star and a black bull on each handle.
Made by the Western Corporation of Osterman, West Virginia.
For over a hundred years, they have been lost. Until now.
Until I found them.
Burn the breeze.
The school year?
Just about done.
Less than a month to go!
I like school and all, sure.
But I like summer vacation better.
Yet before it was over, there was one last assignment.
One last report.
Our history teacher, Mr. Soames, assigned us the final project of the semester.
We were told to write a report on some element of local history.
Any topic we wanted.
I went big.
The biggest story in all of Town Worth!
The long-lost guns of The Checkerboard Kid.
Sure, you’ve probably read about him – and them – a thousand times before.
Will Eckerson, aka The Checkerboard Kid.
Famed bank robber turned lawman turned smitten cowboy who found his true love and spent his last years in Town Worth.
But ... whatever happened to his legendary guns?
Two pearl-handled revolvers with a star and a black bull on each handle.
Made by the Western Corporation of Osterman, West Virginia.
For over a hundred years, they have been lost. Until now.
Until I found them.
I visited our county's Historical Society as a starting point.
They had a trove of information, of course.
Will Eckerson was legendary not just in our town, but in the annals of the Old West.
The dashing bandit who always got away!
The scoundrel who turned left when the law turned right.
The outlaw who’d robbed more banks than Jesse James or The Cranberry Crook.
The man who renounced his lawless ways and became Marshal of Abilond, Kansas.
The romantic soul who moved back east for the sake of true love.
He spent his final years in Town Worth, putting on cowboy exhibitions and giving our sleepy little hamlet a bit of buckskin pizzazz.
They had a trove of information, of course.
Will Eckerson was legendary not just in our town, but in the annals of the Old West.
The dashing bandit who always got away!
The scoundrel who turned left when the law turned right.
The outlaw who’d robbed more banks than Jesse James or The Cranberry Crook.
The man who renounced his lawless ways and became Marshal of Abilond, Kansas.
The romantic soul who moved back east for the sake of true love.
He spent his final years in Town Worth, putting on cowboy exhibitions and giving our sleepy little hamlet a bit of buckskin pizzazz.
Born in 1856 in Worchester, Massachusetts, to an apothecary father and a schoolteacher mom.
Given the name Willing Servant Eckerson by his devout parents.
(Think that’s bad? His little sister was named Temperance!)
Will robbed his first bank at the age of nineteen.
Before he did, he grabbed a bandana from a clothesline to help cover his face.
The bandana was red and black checked.
And thus, “The Checkerboard Kid" was born.
Apparently, Will hated the name. But it stuck. And became his criminal alter ego.
He roamed the Plains and robbed more banks, sometimes alone and sometimes with partners.
There is no account that he ever killed anyone.
I mean, maybe he did. Probably.
But the records state he never shot a soul.
Given the name Willing Servant Eckerson by his devout parents.
(Think that’s bad? His little sister was named Temperance!)
Will robbed his first bank at the age of nineteen.
Before he did, he grabbed a bandana from a clothesline to help cover his face.
The bandana was red and black checked.
And thus, “The Checkerboard Kid" was born.
Apparently, Will hated the name. But it stuck. And became his criminal alter ego.
He roamed the Plains and robbed more banks, sometimes alone and sometimes with partners.
There is no account that he ever killed anyone.
I mean, maybe he did. Probably.
But the records state he never shot a soul.
But his guns?
Why had they disappeared?
Pearl-handled beauties he’d used throughout his career as both criminal and constable.
I knew one thing.
We needed to go to Kansas.
“Saddle up, Dale. We’re headed out West.”
“Is this for your cowboy thing?”
“Yep."
“I gotta wear a saddle?”
“That’s just an expression. It means ‘Get ready,’ I think.”
“Why not just say ‘Get ready,' then?”
“Saddle. Up."
I flashed a cowgirl's sneer.
“You little show pony."
“Easy, partner," he laughed. “You might have too much mustard on that there doggie."
With a wink and a blink, Dale and I headed to Kansas.
Why had they disappeared?
Pearl-handled beauties he’d used throughout his career as both criminal and constable.
I knew one thing.
We needed to go to Kansas.
“Saddle up, Dale. We’re headed out West.”
“Is this for your cowboy thing?”
“Yep."
“I gotta wear a saddle?”
“That’s just an expression. It means ‘Get ready,’ I think.”
“Why not just say ‘Get ready,' then?”
“Saddle. Up."
I flashed a cowgirl's sneer.
“You little show pony."
“Easy, partner," he laughed. “You might have too much mustard on that there doggie."
With a wink and a blink, Dale and I headed to Kansas.