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It's been almost 23yrs in coming but it's finally mine. I have obtained the most valuable possession I will probably ever own... the family heirloom. It's a Colt SAA .38-40 converted percussion cap black powder pistol (circa 1875) used by my twice great grandfather, who was a serious outlaw turned serious US Marshall. It needs to be restored, but still works, as I found out when I accidentally shot a big hole through my clothes, suitcase, and my father's house. :roll: :ne_nau:
Here she is...
Quote:
Originally Posted by Gutpiler_Utahn
...what the hell? :roflol: :roflol: :roflol:
Please explain :roflol: Nice looking firearm ya got there...
As a small collector may I say please, do not ruin the beauty of this antiquity by any foolish restoration. Clean the barrel and the action but leave the looks as history and time has artisticly rendored it. :hail2thechief:
When I say restore the pistol, it's not NEARLY as involved as you may think. Do you see the tape on the barrel there? There's a screw missing there. You may also notice the front blade sight missing. I will not be replacing that. The original owner removed it after a gunfight where the front blade caught on the holster and nearly cost him his life. I know the hammer has been replaced with one from a .44 Mag, but I don't know the story behind it. The spike on the hammer has been ground down on the top of it to make it fit through the hole in the frame. I may see if I can find an original hammer for it and replace it. Also, the internal springs had worn out and my old man, being a machinist, made a new set and installed them. The trigger is only about 3.5 - 4lbs and is quite crisp.
As for an explaination as to what happened to my luggage... well, I'm pretty embarrassed by the whole thing and the stress of it all gave me heartburn for a week afterwards. With the pistol, my old man gave me 2 live blackpowder rounds from the 1930's. Inspecting them, they appeared to be duds as the primer had been struck at LEAST once. So, not thinking anything of it, I was thinking that if my nephews find them, they're history. To "hide" them, I stuck them in the cylinder. The next day, I thought better of it and was taking them out. As I rotated the cylinder, I came to the first bullet. I was very careful here and lowered the hammer very slowly but it was for naught. BOOM!!! Through my clothes, through my luggage, and through the floor and into the basement. Nobody was hurt, obviously, and I couldn't believe what had transpired. A liuttle later, when everybody settled down, my old man comes up to me and says, "I just have one question for you... How did she kick?" :haha:
I had to fly out the next morning and it was fun explaining to the airlines why they would find traces of blackpowder all over my luggage if they checked it. :roll:
Oh geez. . . :roflol:
Yeah, there's definitely a screw loose. :lol8:Quote:
Originally Posted by Gutpiler_Utahn
I guess that explains the blurred pics, whoops :haha:
http://www.bogley.com/forum/files/4_174.jpg
:roflol: :lol8: your a true red neck.
BTW i love the gun. :2thumbs:
Very, very nice family heirloom. I'm curious who the original owner, your twice great grandfather was?
- DAA
Awesome piece of history. :rockon:
I'm a real history buff on the old west outlaws, Marshalls and gunfighters... How about sharing a little more info?Quote:
Originally Posted by Gutpiler_Utahn
:popcorn:
Ditto. Sounds interesting.Quote:
Originally Posted by Iceaxe
...but this time, aim the gun at the bad guy. :lol8:
Yes, please do tell?
Ya, at least tell us his name.Quote:
Originally Posted by Sombeech
gun went off accidently? that's a big OOPS!! :haha:
what a great piece of family history. i, like others are interested in more details.
I would have to get his biography from my father or sister, but here are the parts I remember:
Frank Gillespie was his name. He was born in Utah or Nevada, I can't recall which. He never knew his father, though he learned that he was a guide for people coming west and died doing so, and his mother was a snobbish, know-it-all who liked to chastize the nanny whenever the opportunity arose. On one winter night, she ordered the nanny into the kitchen for another chewing, so the nanny put the baby down by the fire to keep warm. While there, a burning log rolled out of the fire and onto his leg, causing the tendons/ligaments to shrink and crippling the child.
That spring, the Piautes came by and gave his mother some snake oil (not sure what this could be), telling her to rub just a little on each day and soon the leg would stretch back out and he would be fine. His mother, always thinking she new better than anybody else, figured that if a little was good then a lot was great. So, she rubbed large amounts of the ointment onto his leg and it did it's job... only too well. In the end, the tendons/ligaments in his leg stretched too far and he ended up with a gimpy leg for the rest of his life. Deciding that she couldn't bear to have a cripple for a child, she packed her things and her nanny and left the child for dead. Days later, the local Piautes came by to check on the infant's progress only to find him abandoned. they took him in as one of their own and he was raised a Piaute and eventually given the name Narient, meaning Great Warrior (which is a name passed down through my family). By the time he was 8, the only way you could tell he WASN'T one of them was by his blue eyes. He could keep up with the other indian children despite his gimpy leg.
When he was old enough to venture out on his own, he did so. He worked for different stage coaches growing up and even worked with his mother from time to time. Any words that were traded between the two are not recorded, to my knowledge.
Somehow, he was under the impression that Mormons had killed his father and when he turned to robbing the very stagecoaches he had worked for, he would tell his victims that he was the local Mormon church leader's son in an effort to strike back at the church. He robbed stagecoaches for YEARS and aquired a vast amount of gold and other wealth. He decided to bury his treasure and did so in the mountains of Utah. Unfortunately, after burying it and leaving the area, he was kicked in the head by his mule and lost his short term memory and with it, the location of his treasure. My family has known all along the general area that the treasure was buried and I guess it leaked out somewhere along the way. In the 1980's a professional treasure hunter bought the entire area and found the treasure. The exact number escapes me, but there was roughly $30M in gold bullion, stamped Wells Fargo, the made up a majority of the treasure. When the treasure hunter contacted the bank, they denied that the robbery had ever taken place, according to their records. He ended up keeping the gold.
Back to the story... Shortly after, he gave up his life of crime and became a US Marshall, becoming judge, jury, & executioner. I don't have any memory of his stories as a Marshall, but I do recall my grandfather telling me about how when he was a boy, his grandma told his grandpa to go out and round up 5 chickens for supper. the old man slowly got to the door, put on his old gunbelt (with the pictured pistol in the holster), walked into the chicken yard, and faster than you can read this, shot the heads off of five chickens. He gathered them up like it was nothing and brought them in for supper.
_______________________________
I wish I could recall more on his life, and most of these memories come from a report I did on him in the 8th grade (at which point I learned that he had arrested the great great grandfather of one of my class-mates :2thumbs: Small world I guess), but I don't know the rest of the story yet. I need to get my hands on it.
Oh! One last thing... Later in life, he learned that his father was killed by the Commanche Indians while guiding people west. He later joined the church and we've been here ever since.
excellent story!! abandoned as a child, raised by indians, buried treasure. that's what i'm talking about!! :2thumbs:
:popcorn: Awesome story.
Awesome story!!! Wow. That would make for a great screenplay.
:popcorn:
Definately movie worthy! :2thumbs:
Thanks, guys. He had a saying that I heard occassionally growing up. He used to say, "They may be able to kill me, but they'll never be able to eat me." And he was one tough cowboy. I wish I coulda met him. As it is, this artifact is all anybody has left of him outside of our superior genetics. :naughty: :mrgreen: :stud:
I would love to see his life turned into a movie. Maybe I sould send something to my cousin the movie producer. :popcorn:
you have an in. thats what i refer to as the theory of relativity.Quote:
Originally Posted by Gutpiler_Utahn
Yes yes yes. I watch TONS of Westerns, and that story -- the little bit you told -- is the framework for one great movie.Quote:
Originally Posted by Gutpiler_Utahn
And "They can kill me but they can't eat me!!!" Hell yeah! Man, I love that.
If you don't puruse this soon, I'll do it. There's a threat to get you motivated.
One of these days I'll tell you guys about my ancestor who captured the City of Montery by mistake.