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Text at bottom was posted couple weeks ago as 'Gunplay in 1920s Oklahoma.' This is the rest of the story that I omitted due unable to find this S&W photo. I found it today -- so to continue. This S&W .38 Special was carried daily by my Uncle in OKlahoma's wild oil field exploration days of the teens & early 1920s. My Dad, 20 years younger than Uncle was his bodyguard & driver. Dad said he'd drive the Buick roadster down country roads & Uncle would practice shooting DA at fence posts with this pistol -- & rarely missed.


I got it from my cousins estate in 1990s badly abused probably by ranch hands for decades. I installed a new barrel from Numrich & had it reblued & re-CCH of hammer & trigger -- which answers the oft-asked question about what to do about a family relic.


Previous posting ---- I'm pretty much up to speed on the 1920s period of Ardmore, OK; family stories since my Father, Grandfather and uncles were in the middle of things politic and otherwise. Sorry is some of this is deja vu --

My Father's oldest brother fancied himself the head of the clan. My Dad, 20 years younger acted as his lieutenant and bodyguard, walking 5 steps behind him when out on the street. That uncle and my Grandfather (Mother's side) had offices above a drugstore. Hot July, uncle ventures down to the drugstore for a cool something at the soda fount, no jacket and no gun. On the landing down the stairs he is met by a a tough pair intent on working him over with brass knucks. Fortunately uncle hadn't forgotten his little Remington derringer and shot one of them in the leg, from his pants pocket, - who turned out to be the sheriff's (Buck Garrett) son Raymond.

There was a bit of corruption in politics in the teens and '20s. Uncle had bought a new Buick roadster that was promptly stolen. Couple days later my Dad sees it on the used car lot of the Buick dealer - he verified it because he checked out a tiny tear in the seat cover he had caused. Uncle says this is bigger than we are, insurance has agreed to pay so just left it alone.

Maybe 1949 I was driving & Dad tells me to pull over & stop, saying "this is where Bob got shot." That around 1922, Uncle was shot twice on a back street Sunday morning while driving with his wife. Car sideswiped by a drunk, uncle is arresting the perp, shoving him into the back seat, when he turns, shoots him twice in the belly, once from the front and again from the side as he fell. Not drunk at all, shooter drives away. My Dad said he watched Doc Hardy cut him open, pull his innards out, wash them, sew them up and put him back together. He didn't croak however; lived till 1950. Back in the day it was common to allow observers present in the OR.

Years later maybe 1949 I was visiting here and my Dad says you can't guess who came to see me. Raymond Garrett! There was a time we would have been reaching for our guns on sight - but we spent couple hours talking over old times.
 
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