A Stop In Amarillo

Many readers ask if my novels are based on real people, real events, and real places. All of them are—some more so than others. All of the major events happened; all of the characters were inspired by real people.  Not all of the events happened to me, nor did I witness them all. A few are taken from newspaper and magazine articles that I found intriguing.  But I witnessed most of the events. The people are often composites of interesting characters I have encountered. Some are readily identifiable as real people. The places are also real, though I might change the topography or combine characteristics of places to get the right setting for my characters.

I took a trip awhile back to retrace some of the places and people that inspired my writing in previous books and in my new offerings, Circle of Hurt and Believing in a Grand Thing.

Part 2 A Stop in Amarillo—Where Fiction Is Introduced to Truth

As I left Henrietta and headed back to 287, a tall cowboy skinny as a slice of bacon walked beside the road. The backpack indicated he was a cowboy afoot. He stopped, shook a cigarette from a pack, and used his huge hat to shield his lighter from the wind. Struck me as a classic pose for an artist, an opportunity to look for a novel, but traffic kept me from stopping. Bet he has a lot of stories to tell.

Outside of Estelline, I passed the Prairie Dog Town Fork of the Red River. I had passed a big lake earlier where the water was red. They say out here that means the water is pure and free of gypsum. You can sure see where the Red River gets its name. 

Passed through Hedley, population 319. Marveled at the fact that I played many baseball and basketball games here when I attended Adrian High School.  Though it’s about a four hour drive from Adrian, Hedley was in our district. 

As I passed through Goodnight, Texas, stories of the grand old man of cattle filled my head. Goodnight was clearly the inspiration for Woodrow Call in Lonesome Dove and that made me think of Bose Ikard, the man who inspired Joshua Deets.  I have visited his gravestone in Weatherford where Goodnight had his famous “never shirked a task” epitaph inscribed to honor Ikard. Jan and I could not recall his name recently and I told her to Google “never shirked a task”. His name came up first. 

Blue Duck, who died after jumping from a prison wall, was based on Kiowa Chief Satanta, who died the same way. He is found in Home Light Burning. Hy regretted the question as soon as it left his lips. Satanta looked deeply into his eyes for several seconds before answering. "I will be free soon." Two days later, Satanta faked a heart attack and was taken to the prison hospital. Singing the Kiowa death song, he jumped through the second story window of the hospital and landed on a brick wall below. Hy is my great uncle and was in Huntsville Prison at this time.

In Claude, the temp dropped to 88 and I no longer needed air conditioning. Ugly wind turbines now cover the landscape, spoiling natural beauty, making loud noise, killing birds. These ugly machines do little good and much harm and would not exist except for corrupt taxpayer subsidies granted because their meager production of energy makes them unable to pay their own way.

In Amarillo, I was surprised to see several sixties-looking hippies traveling the highways with backpacks sporting hair that has not felt shampoo or scissors in months, and filthy clothes. Wonder what their stories are?  Enough for a novel?

I had to get on the interstate for a short time. Minutes later, I was in a traffic jam. A wreck up ahead, I found out later. Decided it would be a good time to pull over and rest for the night. Settled into room 137 at Motel Six, I called cousin John Bill Garnett, who lives in nearby Hereford. I hoped to catch him for a short visit, but he was in Wyoming. 

The next morning, I found cousins Arlen and Sherry Alexander in the Amarillo phone book and invited them for coffee. They insisted I come by their house. 

They had been kind enough to buy and read my books, so we had a conversation starter to delve into old times and family history. I knew Arlen and his parents and siblings had lived in the Panhandle when he was a boy, but they had returned to Fort Worth long before I lived there as a boy. So I was surprised that he knew some of the people I had gone to school with in the area. His sister Sha had a crush on someone he remembered only as Popcorn. I knew he was referring to Popcorn Pannell, who married Cynthia Kromer, a schoolmate of mine at Adrian. Popcorn had become a pharmacist and he and Cynthia settled in Plainview. 

Arlen also knew my old classmate Bill Gudgell and the details of his murder by a young boy he had taken in to live in his home and work as a farmhand. The boy and Bill’s wife (another schoolmate) went to prison for Bill's murder. I told them the story of Bill’s connection to Calvin Peters and the Quien Sabe Ranch and how I hoped to see Calvin on this trip. Fodder for a novel?

Fifty Years in 1000 Miles

Looking for a Novel

The Stories Behind the Stories

Fifty Years in 1000 miles

Many readers ask if my novels are based on real people, real events, and real places. All of them are—some more so than others. All of the major events happened; all of the characters were inspired by real people.  Not all of the events happened to me, nor did I witness them all. A few are taken from newspaper and magazine articles that I found intriguing.  But I witnessed most of the events. The people are often composites of interesting characters I have encountered. Some are readily identifiable as real people. The places are also real, though I might change the topography or combine characteristics of places to get the right setting for my characters.

I took a trip awhile back to retrace some of the places and people that inspired my writing in previous books and in my new offerings, Circle of Hurt and Believing in a Grand Thing. 

Part 1—A song and mortality, old towns and ranches of West Texas

This trip, like many of mine, was unplanned.  I just felt the need to get away from the office, the computer, and social media that had swallowed me whole after the publication of three books at the same time. I threw some things in a travel bag and left just after noon on a hot July Sunday. 

I left the CD player going the last time I drove my pickup, and as I rounded the curve on our driveway, Red River Valley was still playing. I have used the words to that old song in at least two books. But today, the sound of the Sons of the Pioneers brought a sudden and very strong awareness of my mortality. Tears came to my eyes. 

The song reminds me of my childhood and of my long gone parents. It’s about a girl leaving the valley, but as I drove away, I imagined my wife and children singing it to me. Lyrics like, “From this valley they say you are leaving” and “Then come sit by my side if you love me. Do not hasten to bid me adieu.” 

Sounds like I am over dramatizing and I suppose I am, but as tears filled my eyes, I had the definite feeling that I might never see them again. Why? Maybe because this would be the first night I had spent alone away from home in several years. Nothing short of death could keep me from returning—thus the feeling that mortality rode with me. I had recently lost my cousin and close friend Marion, so death was fresh. 

As I drove farther away, I tried to recall the words from Go Down Looking as I wrote about Jake’s loss of his brother, Gray Boy. I could almost recite them from memory. 

His death undeniably changed my life, almost as much as his living. Mortality slapped me in the face that day and every day for months. The slaps were sharp and stinging.  Then mortality became a distinct personage and regular traveler on my shoulders. He was heavy at first but then grew lighter with time, even lifting me up on those occasions when I wanted to bend with the weight of living. Having mortality there caused me to make better decisions, to take chances I might not have taken without his constant reminders that life is often short and always fragile.

I was headed to the Panhandle and possible other points north with the intention of coming back through Hollis, Oklahoma to see old friends. I had no real agenda, just go and hope. I had driven the Panhandle route many times over the years, but old landmarks were gone or changed, and without GPS in my old truck or on a smart phone, I decided to pull over and check my map about an hour from home. 

A car driven by a Mexican woman and a young boy pulled up beside me. The boy asked directions to the prison in Bonham. Said his daddy was a prisoner there. He translated the directions I gave them. As they drove away, I wondered at the sad story they could probably tell and whether it was deep enough for a novel. Was that what I was looking for—a new novel—or was I rediscovering an old one? 

As I passed through Nocona, I saw a for sale sign on what had been the world headquarters for Nocona Boot Company. I had visited there a couple of times back in the days when I sold boots in Chute I, my western wear and tack shop. Sad to see that old empty building, sort of a shadow of a former life.

In Henrietta, I pulled off the main highway and drove downtown to see how things had changed from the old days. Took a picture of an old hotel that had lots of western character.  Downtown, like a lot of small Texas towns, seems to be on the decline. I sat on a bench on the courthouse lawn and felt cool under the shade even though the temp was around 100. 

The sign for Waggoner Street reminded me that I was near the Waggoner Ranch (also known as the Triple D), the second largest ranch in Texas and the largest inside one fence.I tried to recall the family connection of the Waggoner to the 6666 Ranch and a little bit of the history I used to know well. 

Legend has it that the 6666 was won with a poker hand of four sixes, but that is myth. Many towns, including Henrietta, Electra, Burkburnett, and Vernon claim ownership of that legendary poker game. The Sixes and Waggoner mixed families (but not land) when one of Burk Burnett’s (founder of the 6666) descendants married a descendant of W. T. Waggoner (founder of the Waggoner Ranch). 

I understand the Waggoner family is feuding now and the ranch is up for sale for a mere $725 million. Legendary cutting horse Poco Bueno is buried there. I spent a little time with Wes O’Neal, a former horse manager there, when Glen Spradling, a farrier for the Waggoner,  suggested that I write Wes’s biography. A project still not completed.  Was that street sign telling me something? Part 2 soon.

O'Reilly's "Killing" Series

I have read most of the Killing series of books and know that O’Reilly and Dugard can put together compelling stories. I did find a few questionable assertions in the other books (like putting Lincoln in the Oval Office before it existed), but I was disappointed to find many in this one. 

Although it has been said that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but not their own facts, I suppose everyone is entitled to their own version of the facts. My version differs with the authors’ on at least ten occasions. Others have found at least thirty factual errors.

What disturbed me more than factual errors was the obvious negative slant to both opinion and fact in this book. The writers savage Nancy Reagan and attack Ronald Reagan unmercifully long after he is able to defend himself. Bill O’Reilly professes to be a conservative, so I was more than a little surprised that he turned left in this book about one of the greatest conservative leaders of the last century.

Anyone who has heard Bill on television or radio knows that he is egocentric. He doesn’t try to hide it. He knows a lot and is extremely popular and successful, and has come to the conclusion that he knows a lot about almost everything. With that level of narcissism, it is easy to see how he could conflate rumors and unverified sources into facts in his own mind. I.e. “It’s true because it is in my book.” Well no, not really.

Reagan himself said, “It’s not that our liberal friends are ignorant, it’s just that they know so much that isn’t so.” Ironically, Reagan’s statement applies to the authors of a book about him.

I really had a hard time with the inclusion of salacious and unproven rumors. For what purpose?  One tells of then Governor Reagan sitting next to an attractive eighteen-year-old at poolside. Years later, the young lady “suggested that intimacy soon followed.” In the next sentence the authors admit that “his personal behavior as governor was so exemplary that few questioned his clearly stated traditional values”. So why even mention an unfounded, malicious rumor?  

I found examples like this one throughout when the authors used terms like “it was widely known” when describing a negative trait or behavior of Reagan or Nancy. Widely known by whom?  They also attribute thoughts and feelings (mostly negative) to the First Couple that could only be known by them.

When George Will questioned Bill’s facts and research in a column and on television, O’Reilly turned red in the face and his hands shook as he called Will a hack. I thought of one word—caught. When Will asked why he did not ask some of Reagan’s closest advisors about some of his assertions, he said it was because “they had skin in the game”. Seriously? How is it then that O’Reilly used sources not only with skin in the game, but with axes to grind? 

If they insisted on putting in the unproven negatives, why not balance it out with a few unproven positives?  Although there is no bibliography, the authors did list sources in the back of the book. Of the fifteen magazines and newspapers listed, twelve are either left or hard left. 

As a writer, I do understand narrative non-fiction and how authors insert the gist of conversations and conditions (which flowers were blooming as the protagonists take a walk) that could not possibly be known. They do this to advance the story. But this is only ethical when such additions are not clear distortions of facts or rumors designed only to titillate readers.  Otherwise, call your work a novel.

Why did they do it? Because the book is called Killing Reagan, so the authors made a decision that the assassination attempt on his life would be the key element. Therefore, the attempt had to be the focus  all the way through his term as president and to the end of his days. And it had to have a major impact on his health, his psychology and his mental capabilities. To hell with whether it did or not. 

I understand that such events can cause severe traumatic stress. Events like that can permanently affect a life. Other people, however, recover to lead normal lives. The evidence is overwhelming that Reagan fit into the latter category. 

O’Reilly and Dugard do give grudging credit to Reagan for bringing the Soviet Union to its knees, but little mention is made of his successes with the economy, major tax reform, and other significant achievements. Why? Because this totally conflicts with the person they portray as a severely damaged, barely competent person who stays in The White House personal residence and watches reruns on television. They seem to imply that Reagan’s achievements were made possible by his wife or by his staff without his leadership. This does not pass the credulity test. 

It also conflicts with the other books written by and about Reagan. Did he suffer from the early stages of Alzheimer’s while president? Nobody really knows. If he did, the symptoms were late in his last term and were minor. Did he suffer some of the normal maladies of aging? Probably, but less so than the general population. And occasional short term memory loss was more than offset by the wisdom of his years. 

Were any mental problems caused by the shooting? Possibly, but again, nothing that can be proven. Reagan’s diaries were clearly written by a lucid man in complete control of all his faculties. O’Reilly’s book devotes one sentence to the journal he kept as president.

As a writer who wrote books while writing a weekly column, I know the time constraints in trying to do both. Bill does radio and television shows every weekday while maintaining a heavy schedule of personal appearances across the country. It is hard to see how it is humanly possible for him to do this while writing a series of books for adults as well as children.  I always assumed he lent his name and celebrity to the covers while Martin Dugard and his staff did the research and writing. I don’t know that to be the case, but common sense says it is.

I am okay with that, I suppose. Many famous folks do the same. However, Bill did write at least one page in the book called The Last Word where he reveals a letter Reagan wrote to close friend and advisor John Koehler. Bill says he includes it to “give Ronald Reagan the last word. He deserves it.” But Reagan’s letter pretty much refutes most of the assertions in this book.

Bill seems to fail to see the irony in that. Reading that part and hearing Bill defend the indefensible assertions in this book while maintaining the book is laudatory of Reagan causes one to wonder if he read the book at all.

I discussed this on KETR.  Listen here

The Narcissism Epidemic

KETR Interview  

I read this book because of the subtitle, Living in the Age of Entitlement. It seems a lot more folks feel entitled to a lot more things than they used to.

The authors go into detail about helicopter parents who raise their children to believe they are not just queens and kings for a day, but for a lifetime. They book doesn’t deeply examine why this phenomenon came about or how to reverse it. The book's solution: Don't tell your children they are special. I think it could have been said better. 

How about telling them they are special to you, but are still children and must know and understand obedience and effort is necessary for achievement. Or how about, never reward bad behavior. Neither kids nor adults are entitled to everything they want.

The authors deplore the pervasive and silly attitude that everybody gets a trophy whether they achieved anything or not. Awards, money and privileges must be earned. Otherwise, they have no value.

Not all narcissists are psychopaths, but most serial killers are narcissists. Dr. Harold Shipman is known to have killed at least a dozen and is strongly suspected of killing as many as 260. Yet, he remained arrogant even when imprisoned. How dare anyone question him? Did you see the smug smile of the butcher Dr. Kermit Gosnell while he was being led away in cuffs for multiple murders? 

 

Narcissists seldom apologize or express shame or humiliation for anything. Even when they admit mistakes, they wear their past misdeeds as a badge of honor. 

Take these incidents:  Dennis Rodman stated that he should be on the short list for the Nobel Peace Prize because of his befriending and hugging of a North Korean despot. Is that narcissism or just stupidity?

Anthony Weiner continued to publicly display his perversion even after resigning from Congress in disgrace and launching a campaign for Mayor of New York. Then there is Elliot Spitzer. 

At 70, Geraldo Rivera tweeted a photo of himself (a selfie) in his bathroom nude from the waist up. 

How about the legions of sports athletes who think they can commit crimes and get away with it?  664 arrests from 2000 to 2012 in the NFL. Why do we idolize narcissistic criminals? 

The book delves into the "look at me" involved with Facebook and other social media avenues, but it offers little in the way of explanation or solution.

Is social media just narcissism on a grand scale? Am I a narcissist because I use it to try to get more people to read what I write by using social media? My writing colleague Christina Carson recently blogged, “A fine question at this point in human history is, why are we so needful of diversion, of places to hide out? We shouldn’t kid ourselves that just because we see the world and its happenings many times a day and interface with people all over the globe, we are engaged with life. I think we are more afraid, emptier, and unhappier than ever. I love this earth. Its order, its harmony, its beauty astound me. I love human nature and all the amazing stories it can engender through its sometimes hapless, sometimes crazy, sometimes endearing, and always compelling choices it makes. But I’m troubled that we don’t stop enough to examine where, lemming-like, we seem to be headed.”

The authors drift when they get into social security and a few aspects of the economy where they are clearly out of their element and seriously misinformed. They also seem to posit that driving an SUV may be narcissistic, in a stumbling attempt to state one author’s alarmist and inaccurate views on global warming. Even if she were right (which she isn’t), what has that got to do with narcissism? 

They expose what they call myths about narcissists. Myth 1: Narcissists have really high self esteem. In the second sentence debunking this myth, they say and I quote, “Narcissists do have really high self-esteem.” That’s on page 24, so I my antenna went up early. Is it a myth or not? (They say it is; I say it’s not.) They try to explain their own contradiction, but fail.

Myth 2: Narcissists are insecure and have low self-esteem i.e. . . . they use bluster to cover up for deep self-hate and inadequacy. There are a lot of other studies out there that say this is not a myth and this book failed to convince me that it is. If narcissists aren’t just covering up for insecurities, why would they resent and demean other’s accomplishments?   

What is missing from this book is research that has shown that type 1’s seem to all share the same problem—problems with a parent when they were small children (usually abandonment or rejection of another type). The narcissists I worked with all had deeply rooted problems with one parent.

Another myth about narcissists is that they almost never succeed. Unfortunately, sometimes they do, but usually at dire cost to the people (and businesses, cities, counties, states and countries) they leave in their destructive wake. 

 

I really wanted this book to explore how the epidemic is affecting our nation and how most politicians suffer from some level of narcissism. When two people run for political office, I usually vote for the one who wants it (or needs it) the least, because he/she is always the best qualified. Wanting it or needing the office and the power that goes with it badly always makes for a terrible politician who abuses power because of concern for a personal legacy, not the future of the country (and yes, those two can be in direct conflict).

Why? Many reasons, but one example is that narcissists can take directly opposite (and mutually exclusive) positions on the same issue and feel that both of their opinions are correct and anyone who challenges them is stupid. I suppose anyone who runs for political office has to have a healthy ego, but many, if not most of the bozos who run our country think they’re brilliant. That’s dangerous.

The authors, to their credit, do make several references to the appalling lack of personal responsibility in this country (the heart of free enterprise), but then suggest more regulations and solutions involving collectivism and larger bureaucracies as the answer.  The obvious battle between the authors and the compromise turns the book into illogical conclusions in an attempt to satisfy their opposite political persuasions. 

The psychologist authors of this book said that it would offer solutions to the epidemic. Maybe. Readers will have to judge.