Ever wondered how a man named Luke McGlue transformed the wild west of Dodge City with his infectious laughter and pranks? Or what happens when a pet bear named Patty runs amok in a hotel and ends up as the main course for Christmas dinner? Buckle up, as we take a ride into the humorous and heroic tales of Dodge City, Kansas.
We kick off the journey with the story of Luke McGlue, a notorious jester in the Dodge City gang, who used laughter as an antidote to the grim faces of frontiersmen, doctors, and even gangsters. Hear about his witty exploits, his Illinois roots, and the reason behind his nickname, 'Buster'. Then, we shift gears to a hilarious, yet heartwarming anecdote of Mayor Kelly and his pet bear, Patty. Learn about Patty's disastrous hotel adventure, and how it led to a rather unconventional community feast on Christmas.
The wild west wasn't all laughs though. Sit tight as we narrate a nerve-wracking encounter with a man dressed in a black duster, wielding a bloodied revolver, and the quick-witted actions that saved the day. Marshal Larry Dager, a hero in his own right, swings into action with the force of a pint of whiskey in a poker game. It's a story of courage and quick thinking that will transport you back to the wild days of Dodge City. So, come on, let's saddle up and ride into this adventurous past together!
Return of the Great Hunters
Cattle Drives Website
Legends of Dodge City Website
Order Books
Ever wondered how a man named Luke McGlue transformed the wild west of Dodge City with his infectious laughter and pranks? Or what happens when a pet bear named Patty runs amok in a hotel and ends up as the main course for Christmas dinner? Buckle up, as we take a ride into the humorous and heroic tales of Dodge City, Kansas.
We kick off the journey with the story of Luke McGlue, a notorious jester in the Dodge City gang, who used laughter as an antidote to the grim faces of frontiersmen, doctors, and even gangsters. Hear about his witty exploits, his Illinois roots, and the reason behind his nickname, 'Buster'. Then, we shift gears to a hilarious, yet heartwarming anecdote of Mayor Kelly and his pet bear, Patty. Learn about Patty's disastrous hotel adventure, and how it led to a rather unconventional community feast on Christmas.
The wild west wasn't all laughs though. Sit tight as we narrate a nerve-wracking encounter with a man dressed in a black duster, wielding a bloodied revolver, and the quick-witted actions that saved the day. Marshal Larry Dager, a hero in his own right, swings into action with the force of a pint of whiskey in a poker game. It's a story of courage and quick thinking that will transport you back to the wild days of Dodge City. So, come on, let's saddle up and ride into this adventurous past together!
Return of the Great Hunters
Cattle Drives Website
Legends of Dodge City Website
Order Books
About to hear are founded upon a fictitious character, but are based on true accounts. This is the story of a mischief maker by the name of Luke Maglue. The character in these stories transcends from the perceptiveness of their personality the way the character might have perceived the realization of his time. In the mid-1800s, the people of Dodge had a fictitious person, a person they could blame for all sorts of mayhem. His name was Luke Maglue. He was credited with many devious deeds. These wily deeds were concocted out of the antique minds of the first settlers of Dodge City. They were frontiersmen, doctors, lawyers, fraternity members and gangsters. Their purpose for these Machiavellian actions was to lay down the severe conditions whereby an outsider became a member of the group known as the Dodge City Gang. Many of the gang members would pull a prank, then pass it off on another individual or a fictitious person by the name of Luke Maglue. These are some of the stories of the mischief makers of Dodge City, which takes place from 1877 to 1880, a time when Dodge City, kansas, was full of pranksters.
Speaker 1:My name is Luke Maglue. Back in the day, when I was much younger, my parents referred to me as Luke Buster Maglue. I guess he earned the nickname Buster. When I tumbled down a set of stairs and emerged unharmed, those types of files were signified in my days as busters. So I became known about me household as Buster Maglue. In fact, on many occasions when my parents would express their disappointments with me prior to a good licking they would yell out Buster Maglue, where are you? That was my signal to run or hide, which usually resulted in a good buster. My father told me Maglue came from a noble Irish name. He said I was a direct descendant of the ancient McDonnishly clan, meaning the son of Don of the Mountain, who are an ancient and once powerful clan in Northern Ireland. The family territory comprised of the County of Down and the southern portion of the County of Antrim. My mother told me that the first name was derived from the Latin name Lucius and it means the bright one.
Speaker 1:I was born in Illinois. Being a Irish blood, I had a real flair for adventure, so I moved out west. Most people who know me say I'm easygoing and a modest man. I landed my first job in Kansas. There in the early 70s I began Buffalo Hutton along the Arkansas River Valley. I spent most of my time in and around Dodge City right before the railroad arrived in September of 1872.
Speaker 1:Dodge City back in the early days earned quite a reputation for itself. The town site was given many names over the years, from the wickedest city in the west to the beautiful, biblious Babylon of the frontier. Dodge City, kansas, started out in 1872 as a wild outpost of Buffalo Hunters and soldiers, a small in numbers but marked by many violent deaths. It only took ten years for Dodge City to build the wicked and wild reputation it had held since the town's beginning. The city's population of 500 at first year was due almost entirely to the Buffalo trade. The Buffalo Hunters and the soldiers from Fort Dodge came to make shift settlements, to buy supplies, drink and to get away from their boredom.
Speaker 1:I remember Dodge City well. It was no less famous for its mischief makers and for its gunslingers. It was men like me who were seldom willing to let bad enough alone. I loved being a prankster, a mischief maker. To be a prankster like me, a man needed a mischievous sense of humor and enough imagination to dream up practical jokes. I grew famous in Dodge City from a great imagination. When called upon, I could dream up many hoaxes to play on individuals about town.
Speaker 1:I learned a skill on the American frontier, it became accustomed for me to make a joke of when anything unpleasant happened. This was a practice that took much of the sting out of me isolation or the loneliness that I felt, along with some of the hardships and difficulties I experienced from frontier life. I've always believed that laughter is man's best medicine, especially on those empty planes infested with hostile Indians, rattlesnakes, stinking skunks, angry wolves, horse thieves and gunmen. The frontier was a place where a much bad could happen to a man like Colorado small parks. These epidemics would sneak up on you like an elephant's sneeze after a good drinking, which only was remedied by a good major or laughter.
Speaker 1:Even in a boom and tone like Dodge City in the 1880s, there was a need for amusements, especially when a man got bored with a little to fill his spare time. As soon as I arrived in Dodge City I had everyone figured out, from the mare down to the bartenders and saloons, not including some of the dancehall girls. I could win those girls over easily with a light touch of a sly joke with my quick and clever mind. The best I can remember, I arrived in Dodge City in 1872, and soon joined up with a few members of the Dodge City gang. The Dodge City gang equaled a group of lawmen and business leaders who accommodated the Texas cowboy and their rowdy behavior.
Speaker 1:It happened to be my first day in town, so I crossed over to the south side of the tracks and sat on a bench in front of the Lady Gay Saloon. Next to me sat an old timer. He said his name was Smiley, but from the look of him he had no need for a dentist. Smiley's eyes were severely bloodshot. He appeared as if he had spent most of the night in one or all of the sixteen saloons. Even though he seemed to be in a stoper of a mood, he roused up and gave me a howdy.
Speaker 1:Howdy, mr, said Smiley with a toothless grin. The grin grew over his face like a lazy teacher's check mark, the faded red ink stretching up into his bloodshot eyes. How about yourself? He asked. Oh God, I've become a mudsill and I must pray to the man above for my own convictions, replied Smiley as he looked up and pointed to the sky.
Speaker 1:I've gone up to Spouton, living in Rhone. I just asked the Lord to forgive me and to teach me how to fly, because I cannot soar without wings. All I asked the Lord is for some food to put on the table, nothing else the booze I'll buy myself. Miley, don't throw up the sponge now. I said You're just drunk. All you need is a little shut eye. Are you absolutely sure I'm only drunk? Asked Smiley. Yes, I'm sure of it. I said Well, that's a relief. Replied Smiley.
Speaker 1:I thought I was a cripple. It's me legs. They don't work when I tell them to. Neither my hands nor my fingers work the way they should. It's like my brain is telling me what to do. Whether or not my body is listening is a different story. I can feel it moving. I can feel it doing what it wants. I can't stop it. Well, smiley, do not worry so much. The rest of the world is like your brain. It does as it pleases. I said it's like a blind man who walks into a hardware store lifting up his C&I dog and sewing in a dog's head around, just so the blind man can see what's in the store. That makes no sense. That don't make no sense at all, replied Smiley. What does that mean, he asked.
Speaker 1:The longer Smiley and I conversed, the more I became convinced that Smiley had become a lost soul. He took to the passion for a swift drink to alter his mind. He wanted to sit things right but was unwilling to risk the vulnerable. Smiley wanted nothing more than to continue spending more time in the valleys of life than on the mountaintop. He was simply stuck in a perpetual cycle of pain, reliving his mistakes while dreaming of a better life.
Speaker 1:From the bench where we were sitting, I saw a man coming down the boardwalk. His callous skin was oddly juxtaposed at a Christmas of his suit tailored to perfection. His eyes had a look a long-hankered for mischief, beneath heavily wrinkled lids. He walked with a slight bend yet moved swiftly across the boardwalk. A head of the man on a long leash was a male Greyhound dog. The dog, flat-flanked in color, neither dark nor fair, stopped, reached his head under his own legs and took a good long lick. Smiley, who sat next to me, took note of the dog and said All my life I wish I could do that. I got up from the bench, stared down at old man Smiley and said You'd better pet him first. He looks mean as hell. I looked back at Smiley and he was grinning like a jackass eating cactus.
Speaker 1:I followed the man and his dog into the Lady Gay Saloon. I stepped up to the bar, sat next to the man and ordered a drink the man with the greyhound dog sitting next to a Mitterooast himself. He said his name was Kelly and he held a position of Mayor of Dodge City, a part owner of the Bady and Kelly's restaurant. And I love animals, he said. I once had a pet bear by the name of Patty. Up until six months ago that is, mayor Kelly turned, raised his shot glass to me and jeered let's make a toast to Patty. He clicked on his glass to get everyone's attention, cleared his throat and said To a plethora of bears. The saloon went silent, followed with an echo of booze and Mayor Kelly promptly sat back down. I looked over and said Wow, that means a lot. Mayor Kelly continued his story. My Patty bear was involved in many practical jokes. He was the town pet and often broke loose from his bonds.
Speaker 1:One morning, after enduring an uncommon lot of persecution, patty ran into the Dodge House looking for protection. A commercial traveller from the east checked into one of the downstairs guest rooms, having retired late the night before. He still was asleep when Patty entered the motel. The hot air in the hotel got the best of the traveller, so he left his door jar. Patty must have seen the open doors and invitation to join the sleep, and salesman In this room rushed Patty who sought refuge under the bed.
Speaker 1:For a time all was quiet, save for the heavy breathing of the tired wayfarer. Patty must have felt uncomfortable lying under the bed. There was none too much room between the bed slats and the floor. Plus the man in the bed. Snores became so loud Patty must have thought he was making an offering for Patty to join him. Patty decided to stand up and shake off the slumber in man's bed. This caused a sizable commotion in the room. The man and the bed, including mattress cover, slat springs and all heaved widely about the room. The commotion brought the sleeping man to his senses. In an awakened panic the man peered under the wretched bed seeing two fiery eyes glaring at him. Patty, thinking that his tormentors had returned, ventured to growl. The next instant the hotel clerk heard a yell and a white figure shot through the office and out of the doors.
Speaker 1:The traveler, clad only in a night shirt, scared several entering visitors of the hotel. The man, in great fear for his life, blurred by the visitors to such a degree that they only saw the whites of his cheeks, turned the corner of the doorway in the hotel and ran out to Front Street, flashing his goods for everyone to see. He sprinted the entire length of Front Street and did not stop until he reached the depot. At the depot, several onlookers overtook the man and reassured him that there was no danger. They escorted the relentless man back to the hotel. Next day the traveling man left on an eastbound train.
Speaker 1:That's quite the story. I said he must have felt some sympathy for the traveling salesman. Mayor Kelly leaned back in his chair, shot me a grin and replied no, not really. Why not? I asked the salesman was selling no soliciting signs, replied the mayor. Mayor Kelly laughed, took a drink and settled both elbows on the bar. There had to be more to the story, I thought to myself.
Speaker 1:I became very curious about the bear and I had to ask well, what happened to Patty Bear? The animal grew larger and the rowdy cowboys continued to torment me, poor Patty Bear. Patty had to put up with these rowdy cowboys throwing trash at him. Patty became so mean that he'd steal a fly from a blind spider if someone messed with him. So he finally took his revenge on a human race. This revenge was a rather noticeable, after we found the half-eaten arm of a drunk Texas stover in his bear cage. I knew Mayor Kelly was serious about his pet bear from the expression on his face. He never smiled, frowned or even changed his voice. He showed me there was clearly nothing ridiculous or funny about his story.
Speaker 1:It was during a moment of silence that the mayor's voice. When I responded A tragic news I said you have to admire Paddy, for only an idiot would put his arm into a bear-cage. What happened to Paddy Bear, I asked. A Paddy became crazy enough to eat the devil with his horns on, so I had to exterminate him. A few months ago I served him up as the principal dish at our community Christmas dinner. He made a fine Paddy a meat and I had a large turnout for dinner. The mayor solemnly replied you ate your bear, paddy, at Christmas dinner? I asked Yep, I sure did, replied the mayor, along with many of the prominent people here in Dodge City.
Speaker 1:It was a time of the season when we felt the need to celebrate, so I decided to prepare a feast for the community. Well, as you know, it's Christmas Eve, a time for friends to get together for drinks and warm laughter, for sharing good stories. Mayor Kelly paused, I remembered tonight. Well, there's something special about that Christmas Eve of C&D extraordinary and the ordinary Mayor, kelly, reached over to the bottle sitting next to him. I poured a double shot of whiskey and looked me in the eyes to finish his story. It was a tough decision, but I decided to share Paddy Bear as the ultimate Christmas gift.
Speaker 1:I told Beatty, my partner, to whip up a good recipe, but I was responsible for the butchering. How did you prepare Paddy for a meal, I asked. A butchering Paddy was no easy feat, partly because I had to do it myself. The mayor continued A skinned bear is an uncanny resemblance to a human being which can be disturbing to the human soul. And then there's this slime, a jelly-like layer surrounded in muscle groups. This slime made Butcher and Paddy an unpleasant task. Did you enjoy your meal, I asked. Everyone was very complimentary to the meal and we had a toast afterward to celebrate Paddy, as he tasted like venison, only sweeter, replied the mayor.
Speaker 1:You know Kelly said with amusement I never got up enough nerve to get married, although I do have a fondness for a singer who I met at Camp Supply. I always thought of women as a silver saucer into which we put our gold and apples. I have three pets at home which answer to the same purpose. As a wife, I have a dog that growls at me every morning, a parrot that swears all afternoon and a cat that comes home late at night. Well, mayor, I said I'll have to agree with you about the marriage thing. You should just never know which way the pickle's gonna squirt, especially when it comes to women. Mayor Kelly further explained the citizens of Dodge City call me Dog Kelly on the account of my dogs are always around me.
Speaker 1:This was at a time when a greyhound seemed to become somewhat aroused by the dancehall girl that stood next to the mayor. The dog's nose had become deeply embedded in the backside of the girl's knee socket. Yet it was not the dog's nose causing the excitement. It was what had given rise in the male appeal of desire which caused my intention. I stood ready to act quickly. If the dog decided to relieve himself, I would simply give the dog my boot. While I rescued the dancehall girl's leg, I could tell by the dog's salivated look that he was not pleased to experience my boot over his intended lunge. The dog was so angry with me that he began getting his teeth like he could bite the sides off a six-gun.
Speaker 1:The mayor noticed me fashionable intervention. He reached down and pulled the dog back before he presented his business Dog Kelly then glanced up at me and asked if I would take his dog out back behind the saloon. I agreed to do so, thinking that I had become plum-weak north of me heirs to agree to take this dog outside. The dog was so mad at me he would have bit himself if I had would have let him. I took hold of the leash, moved in the direction of the front door with the dog slightly ahead of me.
Speaker 1:It was when the dog and I had reached the outside boardwalk when a man in a black duster inquired about the dog. He asked me if my dog bites. I said no. The man reached down to pet the dog. The dog bit his hand. The man screamed out in terror saying you said your dog did not bite. I smiled back at the man and frankly declared that dog is not mine. The man acted angry with me. His face clouded and raged like he had grasped on a hot coal. He then reached for his sidearm.
Speaker 1:I wasted no time disappearing down the boardwalking into a side alley, narrowly escaping the barrel of a smoke and six-gun. I found myself hiding in the shadows of the alley. I stood flat with me back braced firmly against the outside wall of the building. Then the unexpected occurred A dog began barking at me from the street. I peered out from me hiding place and found dog Kelly's greyhound. The dog looked honry, his under jaw stuck out, with his teeth shining. While he barked at me, the dog had exposed me.
Speaker 1:I glanced out a second time to see the man in the black duster heading in my direction. He held in his right hand a bloodied cult revolver. I heard the man say so this is where you're hiding. As he swiftly moved in my direction, I listened to the sound of his boots hit the solid wood planks. His spurs clinked with every pace of his footsteps. It did not take long for him to reach me.
Speaker 1:I now found myself in a life threatened, in predicament. The man appeared. His black duster was pulled back over his holster, with his gun belt exposed. I felt helpless as I saw he had a bead on me. He pointed his six gun down the narrow alley, aiming the barrel directly at me head. I had nowhere to run. There was only one way out and the passage had become blocked by the man who stood in front of me. I braced myself, closed my eyes hearing only the cock of the hammer, and waited for me fraught moment with death.
Speaker 1:What happened next was simply amazing, for as soon as the man pulled back the hammer on his pistol, he also disappeared in a flash with a blow. It seemed as if the local Marshal, larry Dager, had tracked his man for some time. Marshal Dager, with one swing of the button of his shotgun, took the man out. Dager's fierce blow to the man's head was so forceful that he lasted as long as a pint of whiskey in a five-handed poker game. My aggressor now lay helpless on the ground. Thanks to Marshal Dager, I did not end me time in Dodge City on what would have been a very short stay. It was at that point in my life I knew I'd found a home. I felt like a rich possum in a gravy and, oh, my legend had to live on. So Dodge City would have an extra story or two to write or talk about.