worked for Buffalo Bill Cody.
No, he didn’t travel the nation with the old scout’s famous Wild
West Show. But when the shoot-‘em-up extravaganza came to Ballinger
in 1910, my granddad (L. A. Wilke, 1897-1984) played a role both
important and minor – he helped reload the rifle ammunition so copiously
expended during the performance.
Years later, around 1975, Granddad recalled:
“Not many men living today knew Buffalo Bill Cody, who helped to
tame the west and then brought his feats to many people of the day,
who admired his shooting skill with a Winchester rifle.
“It was my privilege not only to know him, but to reload his rifle
cartridges with black powder and hand-cut cardboard wads for two
Another Texan who got to meet Buffalo Bill when his show came to
the Lone Star State, Smith Moore, described Cody in his 1974 self-published
book “Tall Tales”:
“Colonel Cody was an erect, sinewy, active man in those days, with
a white goatee, a large mustache, and white hair which hung down
near his shoulders. He was a little taller than average…He had fiery
blue eyes that could burn a hole through you.”
After playing to a packed crowd in New York’s Madison Square Gardens
on May 14, 1910 – the venue of his first big show more than 20 years
earlier – Cody announced that he was beginning his final tour. (Which
turned out not to be true, but that’s showbiz after all.)
That fall, the Wild West Show came to Texas
and worked its way around the state.
On Nov. 10, 1910, the show’s 92 railroad cars rolled into Dallas,
arriving in four waves. The cars carried 500 horses and 1,270 people
ranging from the tent gang to the performers to Buffalo Bill himself.
Wagons hauled the show’s equipment and personnel from the depot
to the show site, a field just to the southwest of the intersection
of Commerce and Exposition Boulevard in what is now Central Dallas.
The show’s press agent sent a notice to the Dallas Morning News
and the rival Times-Herald that “there will be no street parade,
for the reason that the parade fatigues the horses and performers.”
Evidently well-rested, Buffalo Bill’s congress of cowboys and Indians
put on a good show.
“Cowboy life was faithfully portrayed,” the News reported, “and
the other features of the show were as truthfully outlined.”
more than 65 years, Granddad could not remember just when Buffalo
Bill and his entourage hit Ballinger
that year, but he never forgot the experience.
“Because at 12 years of age I was considered too young and too light
weight to drive tent stakes or to carry water I got the job of reloading
blank cartridges,” Granddad wrote. “My pay was a ticket to the show!”
Granddad told whoever did the local hiring that he had experience
in loading Robin Hood shotgun shells and by virtue of that, landed
the reloading job. This was long before the government worried much
about child labor or workplace safety, of course.
Though the youngster’s only experience in recycling ammunition (not
that the word “recycling” had its present usage back then) involved
shotgun shells, the show needed brass rifle cartridges reloaded.
“The hulls had been emptied in shooting exhibitions at his last
show before coming to my home town.” Granddad continued. “I was
too young to wonder if he had an extra supply on hand. I knew only
that here a great shooter was honoring me with a ticket to see his
exhibition for services rendered…”
Granddad told me that in addition to a pass to the show, he got
to shake the affable colonel’s hand. Cody also complimented him
on his work.
Still sitting tall in the saddle, Cody choreographed his shows and
put on a performance of his own.
“Though Col. Cody has grown older, he bears well the burden of his
years, and in appearance and action is about the same man who was
the hero of boyhood days,” the Dallas newspaper observed.
Staying in present tense, the newspaper went on to describe how
the famous showman expended some of the shells my granddad would
reload for him:
“Mounted on his famous gray cow pony, the veteran plainsman gives
an extraordinary exhibition of marksmanship which denotes he has
also retained the keen eyesight that at one time made him a terror
to Indian marauders and evil doers. Going at full speed he breaks
glass balls tossed into the air in rapid succession, and very infrequently
did his bullets fail to find and smash the target.”
Sam Baker, another marksman in the show, doubtless emptied many
of the cartridges my granddad reloaded.
“In his exhibition of expert shooting,” the Morning News continued,
“[Baker] displayed extraordinary skill. Holding his weapon in various
and uncommon positions he broke in succession a score or more of
targets without a single miss.”
Clearly, he and Buffalo Bill had good ammunition at their disposal.
© Mike Cox
January 24, 2008 column