Noteworthy Reads: ANSWER DEATH (a Dan Spalding mystery) by Richard Prosch

I've written here many times about the work of Spur Award-winning author Richard Prosch. Most of that has been to herald his work in the Western genre—particularly his stories and novellas featuring Holt County Deputy Sheriff Whit Bannon as well as his terrific series featuring John Coburn, the Perigrene. Throughout, however, Richard has written several stories in other genres ranging from horror to contemporary crime to the wonderful YA turn-of-the-century adventures featuring Jo Harper.

 

Most recently Richard has focused his talents on the crime/mystery field with a short story and a novella featuring Dan Spalding, a former state cop who has taken over running his late brother's used record store in Ozark City. But Spalding's instincts remain sharp from his years on the force and he seems to have a knack for getting involved in sometimes-dangerous situations where those instincts continue to come in handy.

 

I had the pleasure of reading the first Dan Spalding novel, ANSWER DEATH (and also “Spalding's Groove”, the Spalding short story that preceded it) and at that time provided the following blurb:

"ANSWER DEATH is about as slick and clever a murder mystery as you're likely to find. With an original setting, an engaging protagonist, and the lean, distinct prose of author Prosch fueling it, it is a winner that I hope is the start of a series we will be seeing plenty more of. Don't wait—check it out now!"

Really not much more I can add to that. You can get a further plot synopsis on Amazon—which I urge you to do, along with then going ahead and purchasing the book (as well as the short story). Both are available on Kindle and the novel also in a print edition.

You can't go wrong with anything written by Prosch, and if your tastes run to quasi-hardboiled mysteries with a laid back protagonist channeling shades of Travis McGee, then you're definitely going to want to make the acquaintance of Dan Spalding, too.

Another Look: GOLD OF THE SEVEN SAINTS (1961 Western starring Clint Walker)

This 1961 Western from Warner Brothers has all the elements for a top notch Western adventure—strong cast, veteran writers, good production values, and some beautiful outdoor scenery shot in and around Arches National Park in Utah. Unfortunately, it suffers from some slow pacing and a couple prolonged shootouts that amount to little more than two groups of guys blazing away at one another from behind rocks. It's hard to make a shootout un-exciting, but this film almost manages it.

The two main characters, Jim Rainbolt and Sean Garrett, are played respectively by Clint Walker and a painfully young-looking Roger Moore (long before James Bond, in his Warner Brothers contract days when he played the English cousin Beau on Maverick and co-starred in the short-lived Alaskans series). The banter and chemistry between these two make for some of the best moments in the film. Rainbolt and Garrett are a pair of trappers who inadvertently have made a gold strike. They are on their way to cash in their new wealth at a place called Seven Saints when Rainbolt's horse pulls up lame. (Seven Saints as advertised in the title, by the way, is a bit misleading—it's not the gold of seven saints, which makes it sound rather Raiders of the Lost Ark-ish, but rather a destination [one they never even quite reach].) Anyway, in going into a nearby small town to get his partner a re-mount, Garrett foolishly flashes some of the gold to buy a horse. This is noticed by big, burly Gene Evans playing a nasty character named McCracken who promptly gathers up a gang of bad guys to follow Garrett with intentions of finding out how much more gold there is and relieving him of it. This sets up a long series of the bad guys following Rainbolt and Garrett through vast stretches of beautifully rugged country. The pair can't quite escape, the bad guys can't quite manage to catch up and pin them down.

Chill Wills shows up as a crusty, drunken old doctor (was there any other kind in the Old West?) who helps the good guys out of a tight spot and then treats Garrett's wound. When asked how a doctor knows how to shoot so good, he explains “I learned how to shoot long before I learned about doctoring”. Eventually, the now-trio reaches the hacienda of Gondora (played with scenery-chewing delight by Robert Middleton), an old pal of Rainbolt's and now part-time bandit living high off his ill-gotten gains. He agrees to help protect his old friend for a portion of the gold (which by this point Rainbolt and Garrett have hidden out in the desert as a potential bargaining chip should they be captured by the baddies).

An interlude at the Gondora hacienda involves some scenes with saucy, sexy Leticia Roman playing Tita, a “ward” of Gondora who is willingly for sale to any man with the right price. This is all treated as light-hearted fun that would drive many people nuts in these PC-conscious times. There is also a scene where Doc Chill Wills helps the wife of one of Gondora's men having difficulty giving birth to her baby. The doc requests a quill and a box of snuff to aid him and then, off camera, we here the mother give a loud sneeze followed shortly by the wailing of a newborn. Doc calls it a “quill baby” .. I got the snuff part figured out, but how the quill figured in I will leave to your imagination.

 

In the end, through diversion, McCracken kidnaps the wounded Garrett and uses him to force Rainbolt to tell where the gold is hidden. Rainbolt tricks the gang leader at the last minute, and pins him under a boulder which had previously been covering the gold. There is a powerful scene here where Rainbolt shows every intent of leaving the injured, pinned McCracken to die in spite of his pleas for mercy. He flings a handful of gold dust at him and snarls, “Here—die rich!” A few more gritty scenes like this could have lifted this movie a lot.

Gondora and his riders show up at the last minute to kill McCracken and, not surprisingly, demand all of the gold for their trouble. Another chase ensues, this time with Rainbolt and Garrett fleeing a new bunch of bad guys. Spoiler Alert: The big climax involves our boys trying to escape by crossing a swollen, rushing river. They make good their escape but, in the process, the gold dust is washed away—back into the river where it came from—and nobody gets rich off it. From opposite sides of the river, Rainbolt and Gondora declare they will be friends once more should they ever meet again in the future. Then, left on their own, Rainbolt and Garrett decide they will go back to trapping ... it's a lot less dangerous and troublesome than gold.

This movie is based on DESERT GUNS, a novel by Steve Frazee that I never read so I don't know how it compares. Leigh Brackett, notable for much stronger stuff, co-wrote the screenplay. Direction was by veteran Gordon Douglas who did everything from Little Rascal comedies to a blaxploitation movie near the end of his career, with outings featuring the likes of Jimmy Cagney, Sinatra, and Elvis in between. He also prviously helmed FORT DOBBS and YELLOWSTONE KELLY (a far superior Western) with Walker.

In the final analysis, I found this a watchable, mildly entertaining movie. Largely because I like Clint Walker a lot and, as noted before, the banter between him and Moore is enjloyable. But, somehow, I found myself thinking throughout that it just could have been a lot better.

A SOLDIER'S NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Yesterday I posted a humorous Christmas poem. In searching for the words to that poem (“Jest 'Fore Christmas”) I ran across this one and, needless to say, it moved me. So I thought I would share it, too. It's listed under a couple different titles, but “A Soldier's Night Before Christmas” seems to be the most common, and the one I prefer. There are versions applicable to the different branches of our Armed Services, but the core message is the same. Also, there seems to be some controversy as to who exactly wrote the original version (ranging from a soldier in Okinawa to one in Korea to one stationed in Washington D.C.). So I won't apply a byline – if you're interested, you can check it out on the web (Snopes gives a pretty thorough rundown).

The main thing is to read it and, hopefully, give it some thought. Then, while you're counting your blessings this Christmas season, be sure to remember the brave men and women who have fought over the past decades and centuries to give us the freedom to have these blessings.

Remember: If you're able to read this, thank a teacher; if you're reading it in English, thank a soldier.

A SOLDIER'S NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give
And to see just who in this home did live.

I looked all about a strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.

With medals and badges, awards of all kind
A sober thought came through my mind.
For this house was different, so dark and dreary,
I knew I had found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.

I heard stories about them, I had to see more
So I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping silent alone,
Curled up on the floor in his one bedroom home.

His face so gentle, his room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured a United States soldier.
Was this the hero of whom I’d just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean shaven, his weathered face tan,
I soon understood this was more than a man.
For I realized the families that I saw that night
Owed their lives to these men who were willing to fight.

Soon ‘round the world, the children would play,
And grownups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
Because of soldiers like this one lying here.

I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone
On a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from home.
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.

The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,
“Santa don’t cry, this life is my choice;
I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more,
my life is my God, my country, my Corps.”

With that he rolled over and drifted off into sleep,
I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.
I watched him for hours, so silent and still,
I noticed he shivered from the cold night’s chill.

So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
And I covered this Soldier from his toes to his head.
And I put on his T-shirt of gray and black,
With an eagle and an Army patch embroidered on back.

And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
And for a shining moment, I was United States Army deep inside.
I didn’t want to leave him on that cold dark night,
This guardian of honor so willing to fight.

Then the soldier rolled over, whispered with a voice so clean and pure,
“Carry on Santa, it’s Christmas Day, all is secure.”
One look at my watch, and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good night!

JEST 'FOR CHRISTMAS

Not to reveal too much about my age, but many years back, when I was in 3^rd or 4^th grde, I attended a one-room school (actually, I went to two different ones in the course of the many schools I attended growing up – thanks to my dad's wanderlust and his constant search for a better job). The teacher at this particular school—I think her name might have been Mrs. Kildow but I can't remember for certain—used to read to us frequently. One of her favorites was the following Christmas poem. It was one of my favorites, too, and has stuck with me all these years. It came to mind the other day (as stray thoughts often do to old codgers) so I thought I'd see if I could find the exact wording on the Internet ... and by golly there it was.

After all these years I still had myself a chuckle or two reading through it again. It speaks of a simpler, sweeter time and of values (even naughty ones) I think everybody could use a dose of in this day and age.

Thinking ya'll might get a kick out of it, too, here—from the late 1800s, as written by Eugene Filed—is:

JEST 'FORE CHRISTMAS

Father calls me William, sister calls me Will,
Mother calls me Willie but the fellers call me Bill!
Mighty glad I ain't a girl---ruther be a boy,
Without them sashes curls an' things that's worn by Fauntleroy!
Love to chawnk green apples an' go swimmin' in the lake--
Hate to take the castor-ile they give for belly-ache!
'Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain't no flies on me,But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be!

Got a yeller dog named Sport, sic him on the cat.
First thing she knows she doesn't know where she is at!
Got a clipper sled, an' when us kids goes out to slide,
'Long comes the grocery cart, an' we all hook a ride!
But sometimes when the grocery man is worrited an' cross,
He reaches at us with his whip, an' larrups up his hoss,
An' then I laff an' holler, "Oh, ye never teched me!"But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be!

Gran'ma says she hopes that when I git to be a man,
I'll be a missionarer like her oldest brother, Dan,
As was et up by the cannibals that live in Ceylon's Isle,
Where every prospeck pleases, an' only man is vile!
But gran'ma she has never been to see a Wild West show,
Nor read the life of Daniel Boone, or else I guess she'd know

That Buff'lo Bill an' cowboys is good enough for me!Excep' jest 'fore Christmas, when I'm as good as I kin be!

And then old Sport he hangs around, so solemn-like an' still,
His eyes they seem a-sayin': "What's the matter, little Bill?"
The old cat sneaks down off her perch an' wonders what's become
Of them two enemies of hern that used to make things hum!
But I am so perlite an' tend so earnestly to biz,
That mother says to father: "How improved our Willie is!"
But father, havin' been a boy hisself, suspicions meWhen, jest 'fore Christmas, I'm as good as I kin be!

For Christmas, with its lots an' lots of candies, cakes an' toys,
Was made, they say, for proper kids an' not for naughty boys;
So wash yer face an' bresh yer hair, an' mind yer p's and q's,
And don't bust out yer pantaloons, and don't wear out yer shoes;
Say "Yessum" to the ladies, and "Yessur" to the men,
An' when they's company, don'a pass yer plate for pie again;
But, thinkin' of the things yer'd like to see upon that tree,Jest 'fore Christmas be as good as yer kin be!

Eugene Field (1850-1895)

Available Now - WANTED: DEAD (Book 5 in the Bodie Kendrick - Bounty Hunter series)

My latest title in the Bodie Kendrick - Bounty Hunter series (number 5) is now available on Amazon Kindle. Here's the cover blurb that hopefully will help catch your interest:


Bounty hunter Bodie Kendrick makes a living bringing in wanted men. Sometimes face down across a saddle. This time, though, the job is different. He’s being paid to safely escort a man home who’s already served his prison sentence. But there is another man—a powerful individual whose thirst for revenge burns hot even after seven years—who wants the ex con to get his new start only one way … Dead! He’s hired an army of ruthless killers to make that happen. In order to keep them from having their way, Kendrick will have to match them bullet for bullet across two hundred miles of rugged country packed with even more danger before he can call his job done.

Hope you give it a try. Priced at only $2.99, I think it will be well worth your time and money.

Another Look: THE LAST COMMAND (1955, starring Sterling Haydden)

I first saw this film when it aired on TV (probably WGN out of Chicago) in the late Fifties. Since then it has been little seen and largely out of circulation, though I understand it was available in VHS and only recently on DVD.

It made an impact on me for a number of reasons. First, by then (at the tender age of 9 or 10) I had become quite interested in all things Alamo. (This stemmed, at that point, mainly from the Disney-Davy Crockett phenomenon that swept the country through the mid-Fifties and from a great uncle who told me about visiting the actual Alamo down in Texas and being able to still see bullet holes in the structure.) Secondly, the Alamo sequence in this film had a number of things in stark contrast to what had been presented by Disney --- mainly that there were women and children present in the fort (which I thought had to be an error) and then the portrayal of Davy Crockett by actor Arthur Hunnicutt (more on that later). Third it was my introduction to actor Sterling Hayden, whose work I would seek out and enjoy in many movies thereafter --- and then enjoy as an author much later on.

The film is constructed around legendary Jim Bowie (played by Hayden). It starts out a little slow and talky during the months leading up to the breakout of the Texas war for independence from Mexico, portraying Bowie (correctly) as a wealthy land owner and quite close friend (exaggerated) of Mexican tyrant-on-the-rise Santa Ana. It touches on the death of Bowie's wife and children due to the plague, covers a restless period where Bowie is on the fence about which side he should take, and then culminates in him taking charge of the Texican volunteers at the Alamo and sharing overall command with William Travis (played by Richard Carlson in probably his finest role).

You all know the story from there. The decision is made to defend the Alamo at all costs, costing Santa Ana days and weeks of delay while Sam Houston builds a true Texas army. Crockett, expected to arrive with hundreds more volunteers only shows up with 29; Fannin's reinforcements due to come from Goliad breaks down and can't make it in time; the line in the sand is drawn --- cross over if you're willing to fight to the death, take your chances and flee if not (with all crossing over). And then the rousing final battle where 180 go down fighting bravely against several thousand.

Produced and released through Republic Pictures, this is a considerably more ambitious feature than the Disney feature (which was originally made for TV) though not nearly on the scale of John Wayne's epic THE ALAMO which would come five years later. The well known back story is that Wayne, who was Republic's biggest star for many years, had long wanted to make a film about the Alamo. Herbert J. Yates, the head of Republic, strung him along for a number of years. A script was even written and approved. But Wayne, wanting control to tell the Alamo story his way, insisted on producing and directing the film; Yates wanted him only as a star. Wayne left Republic Pictures over the dispute and Yates refused to release the prepared script to him. In the end, once Wayne's version was completed and released in 1960, there are a couple key scenes that closely mirror each other and of course the overarching story is the same. But otherwise the two films have their own distinctions and both, in my opinion, turned out pretty good.

Though THE LAST COMMAND did not receive an extravagant budget (such as Wayne's later version) it nevertheless was made to high production standards. It was produced and directed by Frank Lloyd (a two-time Academy Award winner). The musical score was by acclaimed Max Steiner (complete with title lyrics sung by Gordon MacRae, at that time super hot as the star of Oklahoma! on Broadway).

As Bowie, Hayden does his usual competent, low key job. As Travis, Richard Carlson (fresh from appearances in numerous sci-fi and horror B movies, including Creature From the Black Lagoon the year before) gives perhaps one of the best Travis portrayals I've seen to date; his speech upon drawing the cross-over-if-you're-willing-to-fight scene (which may not have ever truly happened in real life, but is great drama nevertheless) is stirring and the intensity on his face and in his eyes during the final battle seems to fit perfectly. In a relatively small role as a fictional love interest to Bowie, Anna Marie Alberghetti does an okay job (come on, for an Italian opera star playing a Mexican contessa, you gotta cut her some slack). The previously mentioned, Arthur Hunnicutt plays the Crockett role as yet another cantankerous old Indian fighter, the mold he fit comfortably in on so many other occasions (The Big Sky, El Dorado, to name a couple classics); he's always a joy to watch and listen to, but his Crockett is not only a distinct departure from other interpretations but somehow seems a little too backwoodsy for a man who traveled the country and served in Congress. The rest of the cast is filled out nicely by numerous character actors giving solid performances --- Ernest Borgnine, John Russell, Jim Davis, and Slim Pickens among them. Finally, J. Carroll Naish gives an interesting performance as Santa Ana, making him pompous and ambitious yet at the same time a bit sympathetic, something never done in other Alamo films.

When the final battle comes, it is rousing and exciting and very well done, even though the budget allowed, appearance-wise, for a very scaled down version of the old mission and the “horde” of Mexican soldiers seems stretched a mite thin in a few scenes.

All and all, THE LAST COMMAND is rousing and entertaining. As big a John Wayne fan as I am and much as it pains me to admit it, it stacks up very well in many regards against Duke's bloated, long-winded epic (which I still like a lot) and is considerably better than the dark, dour 2004 ALAMO starring Billy Bob Thornton.

It is now playing regularly on the Starz Western channel and well worth keeping an eye peeled for.

Noteworthy Reads: THE PECOS UNDERTAKER by Colby Jackson

Mel Odom, under his Colby Jackson byline, has been on a real tear across the Western fiction landscape this summer. Recently on these pages I wrote about THE MATAMOROS BULL, his latest novel in the Rancho Diablo series. On the heels of that, though not covered here, was the novella THE ARMADILLO'S HOLE SALOON. Both are mighty fine entries not only in the series, but in the Western genre overall.

Now comes the just-released THE PECOS UNDERTAKER, the first book in a projected new series featuring protagonists Charlie Stark and Maggie Buchanan. It is one of the most original and exciting page-turners I have come across in a long, long time!

At the start of the book, Charlie is an assistant undertaker to his mentor Mr. Henson; Maggie is a deputy working for her father, the town marshal. Both are loners with troubled pasts and few friends, though they have a rather tenuous relationship with each other.

Mr. Henson is tortured and killed for mysterious reasons by the vicious outlaw Angel Blunt and Charlie is shot and left for dead. Not long after that, Maggie's father is also killed by Blunt and his gang as the result of a raid that leaves many other Pecos citizens injured and dead as well. The worlds of Charlie and Maggie have been turned upside down and the two loners (now more so than ever) gradually strengthen their friendship and unify to put the pieces of their lives back together, always with the end goal of seeing Angel Blunt brought to justice. Charlie – even though a bit hot-tempered and handy with his fists – is nevertheless the calmer and more practical of the two; Maggie – cool, deadly with her brace of pistols and also quick to throw a punch – is the force that propels them forward.

Charlie no longer pursues the undertaker trade, though he still prefers dressing in a suit and tie such as he's become accustomed to; hence he is often still referred to as “the undertaker”. Maggie, discharged from her deputy duties by the new town marshal, continues to wear jeans and colorful blouses and to pack a pair of guns. Together they form a bail bond service and bounty hunt their own fugitives when the need arises.

They have several encounters with nasty hombres, learning as they go and becoming quite good at their trade. But they're always alert for something that will eventually lead them to Blunt and his gang and, without giving too much away, they achieve that in the rousing climax.

This is one of those books you never want to see end because it is that good, and you will definitely want to see more of Maggie and Charlie. The pace is fast, the action plentiful, the characters colorful and memorable, and the writing is top-notch.

I strongly, strongly recommend this book!