← American History Tellers
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- [00:00]
Lindsey Graham
Hey, history buffs. If you can't get enough of the captivating stories we uncover on American Historytellers, you'll love the exclusive experience of Wondry. Dive even deeper into the past with ad free episodes, early access to new seasons, and bonus content that brings history to life like never before. Join Wondery in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts and embark on an unparalleled journey through America's most pivotal moments. Imagine it's October 26, 1881, in Tombstone, Arizona. It's a cold, windy afternoon and you're shopping for groceries in a general store downtown with your daughter, Geraldine. It's her birthday soon, so you grab sugar, flour and molasses from the shelves to make a Shoo Fly pie, her favorite. She doesn't much care for shopping, though, so you've left her outside on the street to play. You're about to pay for your purchases when the door flies open and your friend Alice hurries inside. She looks upset as she runs up to you. Alice, what's the matter? There's trouble brewing outside across the street. Look. She points to the window. Are those the Earp brothers? Yeah, and Doc Holliday, too. What's the sheriff doing with them? Oh, some of those hooligan cowboys rode in last night, went on a rampage, ran. They've been drinking whiskey for a day straight. One of them even tried to pick a fight with all three of the Earp brothers. Good Lord, why don't they just arrest him? Well, they did, but the judge just fined him, sent him right back onto the street. Now the Earps are on the war path and the sheriff's trying to calm them down, I guess. Where are the cowboys now? Well, they're just down the street in an empty lot. I saw what was coming and realized I was caught right in the middle, so I came in here. A flood of others comes into the shop too, each anxious to escape whatever trouble is brewing outside. You look out the window again. The Earp brothers and Doc Holliday push past the sheriff, kicking up dust as they head down the street in the direction of the cowboys. The cold wind then blows and the dust disappears like smoke, but it also flutters Holliday's long overcoat, revealing a shotgun. Oh my God. Gerald. Geraldine. I have to go get her. Your heart pounds with panic as you push past the others, heading out into the street to find your daughter. Brawling in Tombstone is one thing that happens all the time, but today it looks like there's going to be a shootout.
- [02:33]
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- [03:23]
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- [04:09]
Lindsey Graham
From Wondery. I'm Lindsey Graham and this is American Historytellers. Our history, your story on our show. We'll take you to the events, the times, and the people that shaped America and Americans, our values, our struggles and our dreams. We'll put you in the shoes of everyday people as history was being made, and we'll show you how the events of the times affected them, their families, and affects you now. By the 1880s, after years of westward expansion, the American frontier was shrinking. Americans had settled most of the Midwest and West coast, and with every passing year, fewer tracts of open territory existed. One of the last pockets of the traditional Wild west lay in the Arizona territory that bordered Mexico. It was this area, dominated by dry scrubland and desert that attracted cowboys, ranchers and miners with a strong independent streak who resented government interference in their lives. That was especially true around the now legendary city of Tombstone, a silver boom town packed with saloons, brothels and casinos. But change was coming for Tombstone. As more businesses moved in, city leaders began to push for law and order. They empowered sheriffs and marshals to get tough on crime. And the most famous of these lawmen were the Earps. A fiercely loyal tribe of brothers bound by blood and determined to clean up Tombstone. And their battle against the town's outlaws would culminate in the most famous gunfight in American history. This is episode one of our four part series on the shootout at the OK Corral. The Road to Tombstone Foreign 7729 year old Wyatt Earp found himself rattling south in a train toward Texas. He was hunting for two railroad bandits who'd recently fled Dodge City in Kansas where Earp was the assistant city marshal. But Earp knew he had his hands full tracking down these bandits. They had a head start of several days and Texas was a huge state. From the window of his train, he saw flat scrubland extending to the horizon and cowboys driving cattle along the trails amid huge clouds of dust. Earp knew he could have easily fallen into the cowboy life himself, given his family history and inclination for the wandering life. Born in 1848, Wyatt was the sixth of 10 children, including eight brothers. Though they spent their childhoods mostly in Kentucky and Iowa, the family moved around a lot of Wyatt's father worked several jobs including shopkeeper and bartender, and his boys would inherit his restless spirit. So most of them, Wyatt and his younger brother, Morgan included, would grow up to be fiercely independent and stubborn adults, while Virgil, the second oldest brother, had a sunnier disposition. As a 13 year old during the Civil War, Wyatt attempted to enlist in the Union army like his brothers, but he was rejected. After the war, the family moved to California for a few years and took up farming. Wyatt hated the work and rebelled against his overbearing father. He finally left home at 16 and took work driving a stagecoach and building railroads. Meanwhile, his family soon left California and moved to Lamar, Missouri. Despite being a newcomer there, Wyatt's father quickly gained influence in Lamar and was appointed constable soon after. He was promoted to justice of the peace shortly after. In 1869, Wyatt rejoined the family in Lamar and in November he took over his father's old position as town constable. First taste of being a law officer. Wyatt had never considered a career as a lawman. He was more intent on making his fortune, but he liked the prestige and respect that came with a job. Like all frontier lawmen, Wyatt carried a gun, but he rarely fired it. He was much more likely to pistol whip a criminal. Also, while In Lamar, Wyatt married a woman named Orilla, whose family ran a hotel in town. But less than a year later, she and their newborn child tragically died, either in childbirth or from disease. In his grief, Wyatt's life spiraled out of control. He had to flee Lamar after he was accused of stealing public funds. And soon after, he was accused of several more crimes, including stealing horses in Illinois and Arkansas. But Wyatt really made his living by gambling in saloons. He was an excellent card player and especially excelled at the fast paced game of Pharaoh. But unlike most of his acquaintances, Wyatt rarely drank alcohol, not even beer. He said it made him feel ill. And it was in the summer of 1873, dealing cards for a saloon in Ellsworth, Kansas, when Wyatt's life took another turn. One day, an argument broke out over a game of poker. The county sheriff intervened but was shot dead. The town marshal refused to arrest the perpetrator out of fear for his own life, so Wyatt jumped in. He strapped on two guns and found the shooter in the street outside on his horse. Rather than open fire, though, Wyatt spoke to him firmly but calmly, cautioning him against doing anything rash. Within minutes, he talked the man into dropping his guns and submitting to arrest. Witnesses marveled at Wyatt's coolness in the face of danger. After this incident, Wyatt decided to go back to law enforcement. He yearned to make something of himself and worried that he was wasting his life gambling and running after women. He also missed the prestige that came with being a public official. So he moved to Wichita and became a police officer. There was, but Wyatt soon found that many of the duties of a police officer were far from glamorous. He collected debts, chased after stray dogs and fined people for negligent chimneys. Still, he liked wearing a badge. A newspaper in Wichita even singled him out for his honesty after he arrested a man for public drunkenness. The man had $500 in his pocket and the newspaper marveled that Wyatt didn't steal it. It seems honest lawmen were rare out West. And yet, even as Wyatt got his life together, trouble continued to dog him. He was slow to anger, but once provoked, his temper could be ferocious, as in April 1876, when Wichita held an election for Marshall. The incumbent was Wyatt's boss, and during the election, the marshal's challenger said something insulting. In response, Wyatt beat the man bloody. It cost him his job, and he quickly left town. After that, Wyatt moved around to various cities, including Deadwood, South Dakota, before settling in Dodge City. It was a roughneck Kansas boom town that sat at the center of the cattle trade. There, Wyatt became an assistant marshal while moonlighting as a bounty hunter. Then, in the summer of 1877, two bandits robbed a train near Dodge City and fled town. Rumors filtered in placing the men in Griffin, Texas, so the railroad hired Wyatt to track them down. This pursuit would lead Wyatt to a chance encounter that would change the course of his life. While Wyatt never caught the bandits, during his investigation, a bartender suggested that he question a local gambler who had recently played cards with the fugitives. The poker player's name was Doc Holliday. Holliday was born In Georgia in 1851, the son of a pharmacist. His mother came from a wealthy plantation family, and she instilled in him a Southern code of gentlemanly honor. This required him to fight every supposed insult to his dignity, whether real or imagined. Unfortunately, his mother also suffered from tuberculosis, and she passed along the deadly chronic disease to her son. It would afflict him the rest of his life. Holliday was frequently sick, constantly wheezing and coughing. His pale face, thick mustache and dark, hooded eyes gave him a haunted look and hopeful that a warmer climate would help his lungs. Holliday left a promising dentistry career in Philadelphia to relocate to Texas. But before long, he quit dentistry altogether to drink and gamble. He figured that tuberculosis was going to kill him soon enough, so he might as well enjoy the time he had left. And it was there, living in Griffin, Texas, when Holliday met Wyatt Earp, who arrived in town looking for bandits. Holliday didn't prove much help with Wyatt's investigation. In fact, he was something of an outlaw himself. Still, the two men hit it off right away, and as avid card players, they had plenty to talk about. Upon parting, Wyatt told Holliday to look him up if he ever visited Dodge City. Holliday soon took up that offer a few months later when he traveled up to Kansas to gamble there. Once he arrived, the two men quickly forged a lifelong bond over cards. And when Holliday aided Earp during an ambush one night in July 1877, two drunk and belligerent Texans started shooting at the facade of a theater with a packed audience. Inside, Wyatt and another assistant marshal ran over to confront them. Wyatt had never shot his gun in the line of duty before, but he did that night, hitting one of the men who later died of his wounds. But the dead man's friends were furious and began plotting revenge. Three or four of them finally ambushed Wyatt outside a store one night, drawing their guns before he could. But Holliday happened to be playing cards next door and saw the situation unfold through a window. He turned to the dealer and asked to borrow a six. Shooter then sprang through the door, startling the ambushers and yelling in his Southern drawl, throw up your hands. In the confusion, Wyatt was able to draw his own guns. Suddenly, surrounded on two sides, the Texans lost heart and Wyatt was able to arrest them. He always credited Holliday with saving his life. Still, despite the respect that usually came with his job, Wyatt was starting to have second thoughts about law enforcement. He longed to strike it rich in some business venture and was growing cynical about being a lawman. Because even when the worst sort of violence struck Dodge City, he struggled to deliver real justice. Imagine it's August 1878 in Dodge City, Kansas. You're an actress in a touring company that's putting on musicals across the west, and you've stopped in Dodge City for a month long run. You're lounging around with a fellow actress after a show one night, having some cocktails. Normally, on the road, you stay in dingy hotels. But tonight, the city's mayor, James Kelly, has offered to let you and your roommate stay at his empty house while he's out of town. The offer was generous of him, but you suspect Kelly has an ulterior motive. He's trying to butter you up, probably to seduce your roommate. You decide to press her on some details. So where'd you meet this Mayor James? He was waiting for me after a show. He said he was a big fan. I bet he says that to all the actresses who come through. Well, maybe. But does he give them all one of these? Your roommate rummages through her bag and pulls out an emerald pendant. Even in the dim gaslight, it sparkles. Oh, my. He gave you this? He sure did. And he knows how to protect a lady. What do you mean by that? Well, last week, one of those dirty cowboys was harassing me. Some Texan. He tried to buy a night with me like I'm a common prostitute. Oh, the nerve. Anyway, when I told James, he tracked the guy down and socked him. Broke his jaw. You realize you recall hearing this story, the mayor punching a cowboy. But you didn't know your roommate was the cause of the dispute. Suddenly you jump to hear banging at the door. Your roommate frowns. Are you expecting anyone? No. Are you? She shakes her head. Then you hear a man's voice, loud and slurred. What is he saying? I think he says he wants to see the mayor. You peek out the window through the curtains and see a scruffy cowboy at the door swaying drunkenly. Your stomach drops and you motion for your roommate. Hey, come over here. Take a look at this guy. He's not the one that propositioned you, right? The Texan. Oh, my God, it is. What do we do? I don't know. We tell him the mayor's not here. Well, you're gonna have to do it. I don't want him to know I'm here. He slowly replaced the window's curtain and approached the door. The mayor's not home. You'll have to come back later. You pause and listen, hopeful in the silence that he'll leave. Instead, the man starts kicking the door. The violence shocks you. You can see the hinges straining. Then he starts shooting out the window. You throw yourself on the floor, cowering. And after 12 shots, you finally hear the cowboy running away. You wait until your breathing slows and then call out to your roommate, but she doesn't answer. You call out again and finally risk raising your head. That's when you see her sprawl on the floor. The front of her dress stained crimson. In the summer of 1878, a tragic mix up in Dodge City led to the death of an actress named Dora Hand. A belligerent cowboy tried to assassinate the mayor by shooting into his home. But he didn't realize that the mayor had left town. It was the actor's Hand who caught a bullet instead. After the fugitive fled, a posse led by Wyatt Earp tracked him down. While in pursuit, Wyatt shot the horse out from beneath him before another deputy shot him in the shoulder. Wyatt then arrested the man, who stood trial two weeks later. But the cowboy had a powerful cattle baron father, and as a result, no witnesses came forward to testify against the man. Not even Dora Hand's roommate, who. Who was in the same house when she got shot. They all feared retaliation if they testified, and as a result, the judge dismissed the case. The whole incident disgusted Wyatt. Then, shortly after these events, the city council insulted Wyatt by cutting his salary. His friend Doc Holliday had moved away as well, to New Mexico. So Wyatt decided he didn't have much keeping him in Dodge City. It was time to move on. But at first, he didn't know where. Then his brother Virgil came through with a golden opportunity.
- [18:11]
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- [18:42]
Denise Chan
Chan, host of Scam Factory. You might remember hearing about our investigative series that exposed what's really happening behind those suspicious texts you get inside heavily guarded compounds across Asia, thousands are trapped and forced to scam others or risk torture. One of our most powerful stories was Jela's a young woman who thought she'd found her dream job only to end up imprisoned in a scam compound. Her escape story caught the attention of criminal's Phoebe Judge, and I'm honored to share more details of Jella's journey with their audience. But Jella's story is just one piece of this investigation. In Scam Factory, we reveal how a billion dollar criminal empire turns job seekers into into prisoners and how the only way out is to scam your way out. Ready to uncover the full story? Binge all episodes of Scam Factory.
- [19:35]
Lindsey Graham
Now.
- [19:36]
Denise Chan
Listen to Scam Factory on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts.
- [19:47]
Lindsey Graham
From the moment Virgil Earp first heard of Tombstone, Arizona in 1879, he was smitten. Stories of its boomtown wealth and glittering buildings captivated him, so Virgil lost no time writing letters to his brothers, trying to convince them to move to Tombstone with him. He wanted them all to get in on the boom. Early in 1879, Virgil was 36 years old, five years older than Wyatt and the second oldest Earp brother overall. He was also the most easy going brother and the quickest to make friends. And unlike Wyatt, he was a straight arrow who never got into trouble with the law himself. Virgil had come to Arizona from the north two years earlier. In the summer of 1877, he and his wife Allie joined a wagon train from Nebraska to California. But along the way they decided to try their luck elsewhere. On a whim, they headed south to the Arizona Territory and ended up in the then capital of Prescott where Virgil began working in a sawmill. There, the congenial and chatty Virgil befriended several business leaders in town. He also impressed local law officials with his bravery and soon joined the ranks of lawmen himself. But the world of law enforcement in the west that Virgil entered was loose and the hierarchies differed from place to place. Generally, constables, police officers, and town marshals each had a jurisdiction within a city, while sheriffs had jurisdiction over a county. Finally, federal marshals had jurisdiction across a whole state or territory. A prestigious office that Virgil had his eye on, and in October 1877, he got a chance to prove himself. Two outlaws from Texas had drifted into Prescott, Arizona, and started raising hell. Drawing attention to themselves proved unwise, though, since one of the men was wanted for murder elsewhere. Someone soon recognized him and reported him to the town constable. The outlaws caught wind that they'd been identified, though, so they fled town, shooting at passersby on their way out. Virgil happened to be on the scene, chatting with the county sheriff and U.S. marshal. Seeing the commotion, the sheriff and marshal seized their guns and sprinted off for a carriage to run the outlaws down. Virgil grabbed a gun as well and pursued the men on foot. Then he stopped, raised his rifle and shot them both down in the street. This exploit turned Virgil into a local hero. The sheriff and marshal were so impressed that they hired Virgil as a driver on local stagecoaches to protect their freight from bandits. And from there, Virgil continued making friends, including the secretary of the Territory, the second ranking man in Arizona. Soon after, Virgil convinced the city council to appoint him night watchman. And then in November 1878, he was elected town constable. And unlike his brother Wyatt, Virgil found that he genuinely enjoyed law enforcement. All in all, Virgil seemed to have a bright future in Prescott. But he couldn't suppress the old Earp family restlessness. And in 1879, over his wife's objections, Virgil got itchy to move on. He was especially intrigued by what he'd heard of a fast growing town in southern Arizona with the ominous name of Tombstone. A study in contradictions, Tombstone sprung up in 1877 after prospectors discovered a huge lo silver near a mesa 30 miles north of the Mexican border. At first, Tombstone was just a tent city of scruffy miners. But surveyors soon drew up a proper town with permanent structures. And the amount of silver found near the town was vast right near the surface, making it easily accessible to miners. So more and more people flocked there. A census in the fall of 1879 counted 900 people, but six months later, the population had more than doubled to over 2,000 people. With more streaming in, the city's silver riches attracted well heeled types who set up fashionable businesses. There were high end boutiques for dresses and hats and the largest theater stage between Denver and San Francisco. The city had gas street lamps by 1881 and running water from a pipe that stretched seven miles to a spring in the desert. The restaurants in town were elegant too, with plush furniture and fancy dishes such as oysters and roast duck. Their selection of whiskey and champagne rivaled anything in New York city and town leaders had aspirations of making tombst the San Francisco of the desert, a glittering metropolitan oasis. But Tombstone also had its seedy side. Diseases like typhoid and diphtheria ran rampant. Dogs were wild in the streets, barking and defecating everywhere. And even in the fanciest of hotels, guests sometimes awoke to scorpions, spiders or rats scuttling across their beds. Most notoriously, as with any boomtown, Tombstone attracted ruffians. The saloon district especially was rife with gambling and drinking, and brothels were as common as churches. But the town did have strict gun laws. Concealed weapons were prohibited, and visitors usually checked them in at hotels or saloons. So armed showdowns on main street were rare. Still, the lawmen in Tombstone had their hands full anyway. Constant bouts of violence erupted over cheating spouses, crooked card games, misunderstood rumors, and dozens of other trivial disagreements. And every once in a while, people disobeyed the city's gun laws, bringing an element of true danger to the streets of Tombstone. Imagine it's July 1879, on a sweltering afternoon in Tombstone, Arizona. You're a silver miner visiting town after making a modest strike. So you're celebrating in this rowdy saloon by getting roaring drunk on top shelf whiskey. After about your fourth glass, you decide you want to hear some music. You weave your way toward the corner and drop a dollar into a bowl on top of the piano. You smile down at the musician. Hey there, Playo Susanna. That's my favorite. But before the musician can start, a large bearded rancher stumbles toward you. Several people jump out of his way, and upon reaching the piano, he pounds the top. Nah. Play Camptown racing. You bristle at the rancher. Hey, wait your turn. I just requested. Oh, Susanna. That's a woman song, pal. Now play Camp Town Racing for us men folk. Hold on there. First of all, it's Camptown races, you poltroon. Second of all, that's a stupid song. Doo dah doo dah I do don't. And third, I paid a dollar for my request. At this, the rancher digs into his pocket and pulls out a $2 bill that he drops into the piano player's bowl. I want Camp Town racing. Piano player swallows and starts playing. Everyone else around starts laughing. Embarrassed, you fish out a five dollar bill from your pocket and drop it into the bowl. And I say play O Susanna. The laughter around you swells. But now it's the rancher's turn to ready. He pulls out a $10 bill. Damn you. Play Camp Town Racing. Don't stop. But the piano player has stopped and is now backing away from his instrument. There's a sudden tension in the air as the rancher steps so close you can smell his breath. But you've got plenty of liquid courage yourself, so you just stare back, hard and unblinking. The rancher takes a swing, a wild punch, and you're able to dodge it. Then you wind up and sock him in the gut. He falls back onto a table. You set your feet ready for the next exchange. But instead of. Instead of fighting, you see the rancher struggling with his shirt. That's when you realize he's armed and going for a gun. Your hand drops to your own waist to grab your pistol, but there's nothing there. You suddenly remember that you checked your gun at the hotel, but the rancher didn't. And a second later, he's got his gun free. You throw your hands up and close your eyes, waiting for the bullet you know is coming. Violent brawls were common in Tombstone, especially in saloons where ranchers and miners gathered. In one case, a miner was killed in a scrape after someone insulted his shirt. Nevertheless, many people still found Tombstone dazzling, including Virgil Earp. It was a town on the rise and he figured his growing political connections would take him far. So Virgil began writing letters to his brothers scattered around the west, urging them to first come to Prescott and then relocate to Tombstone together. People often remarked that the Earp brothers all looked strikingly similar. Tall, with dirty blond hair, drooping mustaches and icy blue eyes. And in fact, many people had trouble telling them apart, although there were clues. Virgil had a more reddish mustache, Morgan always had messy hair, and Wyatt rarely smiled. But he might have when he read his brother Virgil's letter. In the fall of 1879, he was living in Dodge City while Morgan Earp was in Montana. The oldest brother, James, was in Texas, a Civil War veteran who suffered a shoulder injury in battle which limited the work he could do. But Virgil urged them all to drop whatever they were doing and follow him to Tombstone. The brothers didn't have to be told twice. They were a close knit family and relished the idea of reuniting. Most of them were ambitious, too, and they were thrilled to hear the tales Virgil spun fun about big riches in Arizona, especially Wyatt, because he had another motivation for heading west. On the way down from Dodge City, he and his common law wife detoured through Las Vegas, New Mexico, where he reunited with Doc Holliday. And there, Wyatt made him promise to come visit Tombstone. So by late November 1879, James and Wyatt had reunited with Virgil in Prescott, with Morgan planning to follow soon. And Virgil greeted James Wyatt with even more good news. He'd just been named a deputy federal marshal for the Tombstone area. So as the brothers took off south in a wagon train, their future looked bright. But there were clouds on the horizon. The Earp brothers were about to clash with a local gang of criminal cowboys who saw law and order types as a threat to their livelihood. And if necessary, they were willing to kill to get their in the 1880s, the lawless streets of Tombstone, Arizona were home to the most legendary gunfight in history. Hi, I'm Lindsey Graham, the host of the podcast American Historytellers. We take you to the events, times and people that shaped America and Americans, our values, our struggles and our dreams. In our latest series, we follow the notorious Earp brothers as they take on a band of gunslinging hooligans intent on disrupting law and order. But tensions boiled over on October 26, 1881, when the Earps confronted the Clanton and McClurry gangs near the O.K. corral. In a hail of gunfire, three cowboys were killed, setting off a cycle of violence and retribution, transforming the Earps into both heroes and outlaws. Follow American Historytellers on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can binge all episodes of American Historyteller's the Shootout at the O.K. corral early and ad free right now.
- [30:33]
Charlie Brent Coast Cuff
On Wonder On Boxing Day 2018, 20 year old Joy Morgan was last seen at her church on Israel United in Christ or iuic. I just went on my Snapchat and I just see her face plastered everywhere. This is the missing sister, the true story of a woman betrayed by those she trusted most. IUIC is my family and like the best family that I've ever had. But IUIC isn't like most churches.
- [31:02]
Lindsey Graham
This is a devilish cult. You know when you get that feeling like you just I don't to be.
- [31:06]
Charlie Brent Coast Cuff
Here and I want to get out. It's like that feeling of like I want to go hang out. I'm Charlie Brent Coast Cuff and after years of investigating Joy's case, I need to know what really happened to Joy. Binge all episodes of the Missing Sister exclusively and ad free right now on Wondery. Start your free trial of Wondery on Spotify, Apple Podcasts or in the wondery app.
- [31:40]
Lindsey Graham
In December 1879, Wyatt Earp and his brothers arrived in Tombstone, Arizona to find a fast growing town swelling with new arrivals like them. Many of these others were drawn by the promise of riches from the silver mining and by the excitement and opportunity of a boomtown economy. But joining these honest citizens were packs of cowboy gangs intent on raising hell, rustling cattle and robbing people of their riches. These were not the hard working cowboys of legend who took long rides across empty ranges by day and then gathered around campfires to swath tall tales by night. Rather, most of these men had been run out of Texas years earlier by the Texas Rangers. They were bandits who wouldn't think twice about shooting someone, even in the back. Many also had warrants out for their arrest and were usually just one step ahead of the law. And Arizona was one of the few places they could resume their criminal ways. They numbered several hundred and had no formal leader or organization. They were more of a shapeless mob with ever shifting alliances. But they did all agree on what appealed to stealing cattle. Most often they targeted Mexican ranchers south of the border, then drove the cattle up to Arizona. But they also robbed stagecoaches and businesses in the territory. And often innocent bystanders got hurt or killed in their fights and gunplay. Newspapers railed against these cowboys and demanded that law enforcement go after them with all necessary force. One paper even suggested offering bounties for their scalps. But these cowboy gangs did find support from one powerful group around Tombstone. Imagine it's the spring of 1880 on a track of dusty land outside Tombstone. You're a rancher and you're mending a fence. It's unseasonably hot and you stop to dab your forehead with a handkerchief. Someone calls out behind you. You squint into the sun and stiffen to see that it's a cowboy from the Tombstone gang. A man with black hair and a thin mustache. You have no idea what he wants, and you suddenly wish you. You brought your gun with you. He stops his horse five yards away and then tips his dusty hat. Howdy. Name's Jacob. How are you today? Fine, I suppose. Good land out here. How many head of cattle you got? About a thousand. Can I help you with something? Point you in the right direction so you can get on your way? Oh, now that's not very neighborly of you. I. I came here to help you make some money. And what do you mean by that? You ever been to Mexico? A lot of good cattle down there. Cheap too, until the import tariff. Well, you see, that's the thing. I can get around those pesky tariffs. And I know a spot down there where there's a few hundred head that don't belong to anyone in Particular cattle that don't belong to anyone, huh? Well, you know, just some Mexicans. But better yet, I know a place where I can slip them into Arizona without anyone noticing. You shake your head. No, No. I don't want to get wrapped up in anything illegal. What if the Mexicans came looking for them? Oh, they wouldn't dare. Mexicans don't have any rights here. They'd be shot dead. Well, I'm still not getting wrapped up in any of this. Okay, okay. But I want to tell you that Ron Flanders did. Ron's a friend of yours. This stops you short because he serves in the Arizona territorial legislature. You narrow your eyes. You're telling me Ron took some? Yeah. 200 head for $10 each. Now you're starting to get curious. Because there's a constant demand for beef around Tombstone. You could easily flip those cows for double that, maybe even triple. Still, it is a dangerous risk. Well, now, I'll have to admit I'm intrigued. But let me think on it. You can do that. Just don't take too long. One of your neighbors might be a little more willing. The cowboy tips his hat, then spurs his horse and rides off, saying he'll be back in a few days. As you watch him depart, you know you've already made up your mind. This is just too good of a deal to pass up. It may be illegal, but why should you feel guilty about this? If Ron Flanders and everyone else is getting rich off rustled cattle, why not you, too? In the rough country around Tombstone, cattle rustling turned ranchers and cowboy gangs into natural partners. The cowboys would steal livestock from Mexico, then sell the livestock cheap to Arizona ranchers, which allowed ranchers to dodge high taxes on imported cattle. And despite the Mexican government's protests, the US Government mostly ignored the matter. So, feeling emboldened, some ranchers went even further. They actively participated in the raids south of the border, and occasionally joined the cowboys in other crimes, like stagecoach robberies. But this near syndicate of cattle rustling and other criminality was totally unknown to the Earp brothers when they first arrived in Tombstone in 1879. Believing Virgil's tales of the place, they had high hopes, but soon began struggling financially. James. War injury meant he couldn't lift much more than a glass full of beer, so as a result, he mostly tended bar. Virgil was a deputy US Marshal, a prestigious post, but the job didn't pay much. Wyatt had planned to open a stagecoach business, but that fell through when he realized that two stagecoaches already operated in town. So instead, Wyatt took to playing Pharaoh and Other card games. He also prospected for silver, but without much luck. So for a while, the Earps main source of income was Virgil's wife Allie, who sewed canvas tents. The brothers realized that they were out of step socially too. Initially, they all lived together in a dirt floor adobe dwelling. Virgil had legally married Allie, but the others had common law wives. Such arrangements weren't unusual on the frontier, but the well to do set in town considered them improper. And as a result, the Earps were not allowed in the best parlors or invited to many parties. So it was a few months of scraping by in Tombstone until in July 1880, Virgil took on his first important case as marshal. An army lieutenant rode into town and explained that someone had stolen six mules from his base. He wanted assistance tracking them down. Virgil was eager to help. In addition to needing money, he could potentially make contacts with the military. So he deputized his brothers and another man and they rode out to search for the missing mules. Virgil soon traced the mules to a local ranch run by two brothers named Tom and Frank McLaury, who were cozy with local cowboys. At the McLaury ranch, Virgil's posse discovered that the brothers weren't home. But they did find some ranch hands trying to alter the US Military brands on the mules hides. When questioned, the ranch hand swore the whole situation was a misunderstanding and that the McLaury's would give the mules back as soon as they returned. Virgil, of course, didn't believe them and wanted to seize the mules, track the brothers down and arrest them. But the army lieutenant overruled them. A verbal promise from the ranch hands was good enough for him. So the posse rode off to the Earps annoyance. To the surprise of no one but the army lieutenant, the mules never materialized. The lieutenant soon heard people snickering around town about how naive and foolish he was. He responded by slapping up wanted posters accusing the McLaury's of crimes. But when Frank McLaury saw these posters, he exploded. He stormed up to Virgil and despite being 6 inches shorter, got in the marshal's face. Virgil denied having anything to do with the posters, but McLaury didn't believe him. A heated argument ensued and Frank threatened to shoot Virgil if he ever tried to arrest him. The matter cooled down after that, but Frank McLaury and Virgil Earp were now sworn enemies. Meanwhile, Wyatt's prospects were improving. He was given a quarter share in a luxurious gambling den in town called the Oriental. With chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. It had a top Notch pianist and a talented kitchen. And in exchange for his quarter stake, Wyatt dealt cards several nights a week and provided security. Then, thanks largely to Virgil, Wyatt also got appointed deputy county sheriff in late July of 1880. He wasn't thrilled to be back in law enforcement, but at least it was a steady job and it carried prestige. Wyatt's social life also improved when a few months later, his old friend Doc Holliday blew back in town. He had heard there was good gambling in Tombstone and Wyatt was thrilled to see him. Despite their long time apart, they remained close. But Wyatt was less thrilled to see that Holliday had kept up his boorish behavior. By this point, Wyatt was fully on the side of law and order, having left his troubled past behind. But Holiday was as reckless as ever. Shortly after arriving in town, Holliday got into a brawl in a saloon and was physically tossed into the street by the owner. Enraged, Holliday ran to his hotel, grabbed his pistol and returned to fire on the man. But despite opening up from a distance of just 10ft, he missed. It turned out that Doc Holliday was a poor shot. The hotel owner stormed over and pistol whipped him and Holliday was arrested and fined. Another outbreak of violence in town would have far more lasting consequences, though this one involved one of the most notorious cowboys. A broad six foot man named William Brocius, but everyone called him Curly Bill. And in late October 1880, he rode into town with some buddies to drink and gamble. Around midnight, the buddies decided to shoot their gun at the moon. For once, Curly Bill tried to be responsible and quiet them down. He didn't want any run ins with the law, but his friends ignored him. It wasn't long before Wyatt and City Marshal Fred White showed up. The other cowboys scampered off, but Curly Bill stood his ground, insisting he'd done nothing wrong. Marshall White demanded Curly Bill's gun anyway and when Bill refused, White grabbed for it. A struggle ensued. Wyatt ran up and threw his arms around Curly Bill, trying to wrestle him to the ground. And in the struggle the gun went off, blasting a hole in Fred White's groin. Wyatt then pistol whipped Curly Bill into submission and people rushed forward to attend to White. But he was too late. He would die of his injuries within only days. Curly Bill ended up in jail as Frank Wyatt had been well liked as marshal. A mob soon gathered at the local jail to lynch Curly Bill, but Wyatt bravely stood them down and protected his prisoner. Despite owing Wyatt his life, though, Curly Bill nevertheless resented Wyatt for pistol whipping him. And so two more men became enemies that day. Entombed the but with Frank White now dead, Virgil Earp was named city marshal. In addition to his duties as federal marshal and with Wyatt serving as deputy sheriff for the county, the two brothers had made themselves the face of law enforcement in Tombstone, getting something they always prestige and respectability. But in taking on responsibility for the law in a violent and lawless place, they also had made powerful enemies. Next on American Historytellers. The Earp brothers try to assert control over the reckless gangs of cowboys near Tombstone, but they get outmaneuvered by corrupt politicians, which only emboldens the cowboys to commit more crimes, including murder. If you like American Historytellers, you can binge all episodes early and ad free right now by joining Wondery in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey@wondery.com survey from Wondery. This is episode one of our four part series on Tombstone for American Historytellers. If you'd like to learn more about Tombstone, we recommend the Last Gunfight by Jeff Guinn, Tombstone by Tom Klavan and the Ride the the Devil's Heard by John Bozenecker. American Historytellers is hosted, edited and produced by Me, Lindsey Granfor Airship Audio editing by Mohammed Shazib Sound design by Molly Baugh Music by Thrum this episode is written by Sam Keane, edited by Dorian Marina Senior Producer Andy Beckerman Executive producers are Jenny Lauer Beckman and Marshall Louie. For Wondery.
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Denise Chan
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