by Jim Murphey
No, the title is not a misprint. An explanation will follow. But first allow me to set up the situation and to go back approximately 60 years to the small but booming mining town of St. Charles. I was six or seven at the time (the early 1940s), and since movie westerns were at their zenith, the favorite game of the neighborhood kids, especially my younger brother, Tommy, and me, was playing cowboy: "P'like ('play like') you're Roy Rogers and I'm Gene Autry." Actually I didn't hold Gene in any more esteem than Roy; I just liked Champion better than Trigger, much as I loved Trigger. When we'd need a heroine to save, my toddler sister, Jane, would become Dale Evans, and Hilda Kirk, my childhood 'sweetheart,' would be June Storey, Gene's frequent leading lady. Our best friend, Marion Wylie, was usually the Durango Kid. We'd ride the backyard range on our old broom broncos, shoot the villains (imaginary, because nobody would agree to play the crooks) with our trusty six-shooters (my favorites were pearl-handled in studded black holsters), and generally rid the West (well, western Virginia) of dastardly robber barons and their henchmen.
But it wasn't just the kids of St. Charles who were enamored with cowboy stars; the whole town was. All Saturday showings at the local movie theatre were packed. (The theatre building, long gone, was located in the center of St. Charles, right across from the railroad tracks on the road leading to Bonny Blue.) My father, Earl Murphy, who owned and operated the theatre, was a fan as well, but he was also a shrewd businessman. Through the William Morris Agency, he booked quite a few cowboy stars to appear in person at the theatre in "stage shows," as we called them. The town was delighted, and business boomed; the theatre overflowed with excited western movie fans. And yes, the heavy, velvet-like curtain on the small stage of the theatre was purple. So with apologies to Zane Grey and his immortal Riders of the Purple Sage, the visiting cowboy stars became the Riders of the Purple Stage.
Our dad got autographed pictures (now in very fragile, crumbling condition) for my brother and me of the touring stars, and we met them all, but when Wild Bill Elliot (who got his name when he played the title role in Columbia's 1938 serial The Great Adventures of Wild Bill Hickock and who was Red Ryder in sixteen Republic pictures) and sidekick Dub "Cannonball" Taylor brought their show to town, we were expecially excited because Wild Bill had dinner at our house! (I don't know where Cannonball ate; maybe at Pete's Place in town.) My mother, Edna served baked ham, homemade macaroni and cheese, and fresh green beans, and Bill couldn't stop complimenting her on the macaroni and cheese. I think he got her recipe. Needless to say, my brother and I were the envy of the kids in the town. As far as Bill's show went, I remember Cannonball clowing around and Wild Bill demonstrating his famous quick draw with right hand to left gun and vice-versa. His trademark was, of course, wearing his guns reversed in their holsters, with the butts of the guns pointing forward. And through his clenched teeth he must have growled his signature line, "I'm a peaceable man," before he started shooting. All the visiting stars had refined their performances to an entertaining show-case of their talents, and Wild Bill's was one of the best. I was proud of him when he eventually became "William Elliott" and was promoted to big-budget films at Republic.
The legendary Ken Maynard and his wonder horse, Tarzan, were there, but my brother and I were determined to dislike both of them because my father had the theatre's two front rows of seats removed to accommodate Tarzan. Those removed seats included our seats; everybody knew they were our seats! But when that magnificent horse went into his act, counting with his hooves, answering Ken's questions with snorts and nods of his head, swishing his mane and tail all over the theatre, my brother and I forgot our pique and became thoroughly enthralled with Tarzan and Ken, who put on a rousing show. Ken Maynard and Tarzan had new fans in the Murphy boys!
Bob Nolan and the Sons of the Pioneers (Pat Brady was one of the group then, played the circuit, sans Roy Rogers or Charles Starrett, and they entertained the audience with some of the great campfire songs they did so well, like Tumbling Tumbleweedsand Cool Water. But Tex Ritter's visit excited us kids a bit more than did the Sons of the Pioneers' gig. Tex was one of the popular singing cowboys, so his show was a mixture of cowboy tricks, stories, and singing. I don't remember what he sang then, but, Frankie Lane notwithstanding, Tex's High Noon ten years later remains the definitive version of the song. And his horse, White Flash, was one of our favorite screen horses. Tex brought with him his goofy-looking sidekick, who had a handlebar mustache but is not identified in the picture I have of him; he didn't autograph it. Does anybody recognize him? Could he be Snub Pollard or Arkansas Slim Andrews, both of whom played the sidekick in several of Tex's films?
Another very popular comic sidekick made a solo appearance in St. Charles. Smiley Burnette had followed his buddy Gene Autry into the movie business and became the roly-poly "Frog Milhouse" partner of Autry, Charles Starrett, and Allan "Rocky" Lane, among others. Frog left his white horse with one black-ringed eye in Califronia, but he wore his bent-brimmed hat in his stage show and delighted his Virginia audiences.
Former University of Alabama All-American football star Johnny Mack Brown was one of the most popular cowboy stars to play St. Charles. Starting out in Hollywood as a suave sophisticate, he became a prolific western actor and made scores of oaters in the forties, but unfortunately, I don't remember his stage show at all. He did autograph a photograph for my dad, my brother, and me, though, and was reportedly a charmer and a true Southern Gentleman.
Don "Red" Barry was the first actor to play the comic strip hero Red Ryder in the 1940 Republic serial, The Adventures of Red Ryder. (Wild Bill Elliott later assumed the role, then Allan "Rocky" Lane, in my opinion the quintessential Red Ryder, took over for a spell, and Jim Bannon closed out the series.) Don Barry, who would later marry western queen Peggy Stewart, was one of the visiting cowboys, but I don't remember a thing about his appearance. My brother, on the other hand, has never forgiven Mr. Barry for the rather crude way he "adjusted" himself (think baseball players) as he got out of the car in front of the theatre. My brother also remembers that Bobby Blake, Little Beaver in many of the Red Ryder films and later a gifted film actor (In Cold Blood) and star of TV's Baretta series, made a solo appearance; he was not with the other western shows.
But by far the favorite cowboy star to come to St. Charles was Ray "Crash" Corrigan, one of the original Three Mesquiteers. He was there with his "Range Busters" partner John "Dusty" King. (Max Terhune, the third Range Buster, did not make the trip.) They told stories, demonstrated quick draw and lasso tricks, and generally captivated the St. Charles audiences.
Outside, they were mobbed by children under the theatre's marquee, where my own Hilda Kirk was hoisted above the crowd on someone's shoulders.
Between stage shows, Crash visited one of the local mines and talked with the miners as they changed shifts, trading his ten-gallon hat for a miner's lanterned one.The townspeople buzzed about their western hero for months after his friendly visit.
Because Crash so ingratiated himself and personalize his appearance, it's a wonder St. Charles didn't change its name to Crashtown or Corriganville. (A side note: Crash's own replica western town in California was called Corriganville and was used as a setting in many western films.)
Folks talk about the good ol' days and as I remember the excitement surrounding the St. Charles appearances of those wonderful touring cowpokes, I can easily put those days in that category. Little Beaver would agree: "You betchum Red Ryder!"
This article and photographs were submitted by Jim Murphy of Carrollton, Georgia to the Powell Valley News, Pennington Gap, Virginia.
A former St. Charles resident, Murphey is a retired English professor, who explained that old movies are his passion.
*Reprinted by permission from the author.
Click HERE for photos of some the cowboys who appeared at the St. Charles theater.