Michael Swickard
The Centennial celebration has me thinking about “unusual” New Mexico historical characters. When talking the past, most people only remember Billy the Kid. Tourists come to see what is left of him. Not much. The tombstone tourists see in Ft. Sumner is really a monument to the local chamber of commerce since all that is under it is dirt. His grave along with the others at the federal cemetery washed away in the flood of 1915. The army moved the commingled bones to Santa Fe.
It does not hurt anything to have tourists come to New Mexico and stand before the Ft. Sumner tombstone. They bring money. But to many of us locals Billy the Kid is not interesting. The legend of Billy was fabricated in book form in the 1920s by Walter Noble Burns 40 years after Billy’s death. There is little interesting about the real Billy, who only killed several unarmed people and was not missed until the legend began.
Contrast that with real New Mexico historical characters.
‘Hi, fella’
Many outlaws made it through their wild years and then became somewhat model citizens. They became the fabric of our state in that they upheld the law and worked hard. One such person lived many years ago 20 miles south of Carrizozo. The name he went by was Baldy Russell. The name “Russell” was assumed, while the name “Baldy” was applied.
His real name was Jim Mitchell. He was wanted in Texas. In New Mexico, Baldy wasn’t bothered by lawmen. There were many men in western history known as Lefty or Slim or Baldy. These men had a history elsewhere but they were model citizens in New Mexico.
Baldy was noted for being extremely quiet. Old timers tell of the time he rode into a Bar W cow camp at dinner time. At mealtime everyone within riding distance was welcome to eat at the chuck wagon of any cow camp kitchen.
Baldy rode into camp without speaking. He nodded to men he knew but for reasons of his own he didn’t feel like talking. He got himself a plate of food and squatted down by himself. The cowboys knew that if Baldy wanted solitude, it was best to leave him alone. He was a “tough hombre” and best handled with care. That is the way it was done a hundred years ago. Maybe today someone would have walked over and made a nuisance of himself, but not then.
Baldy got himself a second cup of coffee, which he drank while rolling a Bull Durham cigarette. He handed the cup back to the cook with a nod to the men sitting there, which meant that anyone near his ranch at supper time was welcome to share dinner with him, and then he ambled over to get his horse.
On the way out of camp he saw a horse he had once owned. He walked over to the horse, patted it and to the horse spoke the only words he spoke that evening. He said, “Hi, Fella.” Now that’s the silent type.
‘…smile or pull the trigger’
Another story about Baldy involves him and Jim Gilliland, a man who, while not an outlaw, was thought by some citizens of this area to have some of the same attributes. At first they were friendly neighbors. Jim Gilliland and Baldy Russell got along fine. But then one thing led to another and they became suspicious of each other for possibly stealing the others’ cattle. Each one thought they had lost cattle.
This built up to the point where one day Jim rode up on Baldy unexpectedly and they both immediately drew their six-shooters and kept each other covered.
Neither had made up his mind that shooting was called for in this matter, but both had pulled their pistols. They stood staring at each other for a little while. Finally Baldy said, “Well, one of us either ought to smile or pull the trigger.”
He meant someone had to either shoot or admit he was just fooling when he drew his pistol. Later, Gilliland said, “I smiled because I knew Baldy didn’t know how.”
It is true that Baldy Russell wasn’t Billy the Kid, but I find him much more interesting.
Swickard is co-host of the radio talk show News New Mexico, which airs from 6 to 9 a.m. Monday through Friday on a number of New Mexico radio stations and through streaming. His e-mail address is michael@swickard.com.