Honor, Death and Evil

Retired Sheriff from the old west gives an interview reflecting on his life as a lawman

                                                            Honor, Death and Evil

Introduction

            It was close to sunset in Tucson Arizona as a young man walked up to a large adobe brick house. The young man Stanley Fletcher was an author and writer for the Tucson tribune. Stanley was famous for a few frontier stories he had published about the Apache and the wars between the government, the Apache and Mexicans. Arizona was a hot spot for war, violence and exploration in the 1800’s. Law and order did not exist on the west frontier. The strongest and most aggressive survived the western frontier in Arizona. Stanley Fletcher was a young 30 year old slender built kid born in Tombstone Arizona. As a kid he had been told the stories of legends in the Arizona territory that lived in American lore. He began to write sensationalized tales of these frontier men and the legends they had become. 

            Today however was different. He had recently found one of Arizona’s most famous lawmen of the 1800’s and was given permission to interview him at his home. A thrill of a lifetime for a young writer to interview someone he had admired from afar. The tales of this legendary lawman were of the substance of that of the founding fathers. If you were from Arizona you knew the stories and knew the name of the man. What George Washington was to the American Revolution, was what this man was to the Arizona territory. Stanley knew all of this and was excited as anyone could be to meet the man. This is the story of final memoirs of Arizona’s greatest lawman: Gilbert “Pastor” Ellis.

Meeting a Legend

            As I walked up to the house my heart started to race with excitement. I was but a few steps away from meeting on of my favorite frontier legends. His home sat alone with a backdrop of the Saguaro national forest. Cactus and rock decorated the front of the home. The adobe rock really stood out. Two windows faced out to the front yard and a rather large American flag flew high and proud. It was the type of scene you would expect of a famous American legend. I had never met an Gilbert but I had heard that he was not physically imposing and was somewhat reserved. I had so many thoughts and questions as I got to the door.

            I looked around and paused as I got to the door, took a deep breath and then knocked. I could hear footsteps coming to the door as I waited anxiously. The latch on the door sounded and the door opened. As the door opened I finally laid my eyes on Gilbert. He had a face that looked weathered by the sun and the experience of being a lawman in the violent Arizona territory. He was about 5’9” and was not physically imposing by any means. He had a stone cold look, the look of a man who was sharply analyzing what he was looking at. His voice was raspy but distinct. “Good evening Stan, come in”, he said. I walked in the house and began to look around the front room. “I figured we go out in the back and talk, nothing beats an Arizona sunset”. I followed him through the house and out the back door. He had a fire going, two chairs up to a table, a bottle of whiskey and cigars on the table. 

            We sat down and he opened the bottle of whiskey and poured it into a glass. “You can’t sit at the table with me if you don’t drink”he said. “I’m always game for some good whiskey”, I replied. He looked over at me with a serious look and said: “I want you to write down everything word for word publish it exactly how I say”. “No sensationalizing what I say, no added drama just the truth”. I looked at him as serious as I could and told him that I promise to do this exactly as he wanted. He smirked somewhat sarcastically at me. If he was exactly as I had heard, my word was nothing to him. My actions were what was going to show him I was credible. I was also appreciative that we got straight to the point. He didn’t dazzle me with his beautiful home or talk up his lore. He took me straight to the back, laid out his terms and wanted to get on with it.

The Beginning 

            “Lets start with your childhood, I’d like to know what your early years were like”. Gilbert turned to me with a stern look and took a drink of his whiskey. “I grew up in Abilene Kansas on a farm. My mom was took care of the family and my dad was a drunk farmer. If he wasn’t out on the farm taking care of the crops, he was at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey ranting and raving at me and my brother”. He paused and took another drink. “I don’t remember much else about my dad, he wasn’t even really around to teach me much. He was working or drunk most of the time. I just remember that at about 12 years old I knew that the first chance I got I was going to get the hell out of there and never come back”.

            I stopped writing and looked up at him, his stern look was piercing at that moment. I obviously needed more than that. “Is there a significant childhood memory that either shaped who you are today or is something you cherished”?. He sat back smirked, “Guess you can’t make much out of a unhappy childhood with no details huh? I replied to him: “Ya I’m going to need a little more detail than what you gave me. Remember I’m here to get the most accurate account of your life. What I end up writing is how’ll you’ll be remembered long after you’re gone”. He looked down at his whiskey glass, shook it and looked back at me.

            “When I was 14 my brother and I were out in a nearby field. We would go looking for animals, throw rocks and do things all kids do in the open fields. My brother always looked up to me from the time he was old enough to walk. He was the only friend I had growing up. We always had each other’s backs and were close. We were close mainly because when my dad would get drunk we would hide or run out to this field until the liquor wore off”. “So we’re out in this field when we hear the loud sound of hooves coming towards us. The grass was tall in this field, so we couldn’t see all that well. So naturally we looked at each other and ran out of the field towards our house. There was a big tree just outside the grass field and we hid behind it”.

            “When we got to the tree we turned and saw 10 Comanche Indians galloping full speed toward our fields. I grabbed my brothers arm and pulled him behind the tree. I told him to sit down and shut up”. He continued, “They stopped in front of the house and formed a line and were chanting in their native tongue. Just then my dad walked out holding a bottle of whiskey. He started yelling at them, I knew he was drunk, then he threw his bottle of whiskey at them. I couldn’t hear good enough to understand what he said but it obviously wasn’t friendly. After the bottle broke on the ground a young brave maybe about the same age as me got off his horse, grabbed a tomahawk that was on his hip and threw it at my father the bald perfectly hitting him in the forehead”. 

            I paused as I was writing to his facial expression and he was stone cold. I asked him very softly: “So what happened next”? He looked at me then looked to his right. “As my dad fell to the ground my mom screamed out a horrific scream that pieced my ears. I turned to my brother and covered his mouth and held him down. I told him to be quiet and stay down. The band of Indians yelled at my moms but left her alone as she ran to my dads side. They took off with our horses food and other goods we had by the barn. My brother was crying but I was able to keep him quiet until they were long gone”. 

            The amazing thing watching him speak was that he showed no emotion or even the slightest reaction. The most stoic stone look you could imagined is what he embodied as he told this story. He paused for a drink and then continued. “Once the Indians were gone my brother ran to my mom. I stood still taking everything in. I don’t remember crying but I remember feeling sad. The next day my mom wanted us to pack to leave back to her hometown in Dodge City. I refused to pack and we got into a bad argument. By the time we had cooled down I had packed my bags, packed food and hopped on my horse and left. I never said goodbye and I never knew what came of my brother or my mom”.

Becoming a Lawman

            Although it seemed like time stood still, I had only been there an hour. He didn’t want to get into detail about his journey to Tucson and I figured there was no point to press on about it. He seemed to open up everything he had into the story about his fathers death so I made sure we moved on. The sun had set and warm breeze came across the back patio. He was still sipping his glass of whiskey and seemed more relaxed then when we started. I continued with the questions. 

            So when did you become or begin to have interest in becoming a lawman? He smirked and looked up to me: “When I was 18. I had been in Tucson territory for four years. I spent a lot of time in town with Marshall Duncan. He was a good man and really took the time to look after me as a kid. He ended up being somewhat of the father I never had”. I looked for a glimmer of emotion when he said that but again nothing. I was beginning to admire how stoic and indifferent he was talking about memories that a normal person would be emotional about. He continued “ Being around the Marshall I began to take an interest in the profession. In those days it was admirable to be a hero, a man that stood for what is right. Not just that but most kids saw the Marshall and his two deputies walking down the street with rifles and badges in town and thought it was a sight to be seen. Being around that and seeing how great they looked walking the streets in town made me want to be a Marshall one day”. 

            “ Duncan had two deputies. Both competent and full of integrity. He would always say that being a Lawman was about integrity and protecting people from evil. He really was a man who believed he was doing the work of God. I always admired him for that. Early in the morning at they were opening the office I would ride into town just to hang around for the majority of the day. He would give me chores to do like cleaning up the jails, the office or running to get them goods and he would pay me. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for him, he was the first and only male role model in my life. I know it’s harsh for me to say but my father wasn’t even worthy enough to shine Duncan’s shoes”. 

            “One day early in the spring time I showed up to Duncan’s office and he was sitting behind the desk”. Duncan looked at me and said “Hey Gilbert, got some news for you from the mayor. He says I need add another deputy since our population in town is growing, are you ready to come on board”? 

I remember being ecstatic inside, I smiled from ear to ear I was so excited. “Yessir Marshall, I’m ready”.

I took an oath on the Bible and was sworn in as a deputy in Tucson. It was the best day of my life. I went over and bought myself a new hat and new boots. Some people go through life waiting and hoping for God to show them where they belong. I was put where I belonged at 18 years old, as a lawman.

The Oath of Honor

            The one thing I noticed about Ellis at this point in the interview was that though he showed no outward emotion while speaking about his life, speaking about it brought him joy. Even the most hardened evil human being shows emotion. Ellis way of showing emotion seemed to be in talking about it. The interview was becoming more intriguing and in a way he was captivating me. He was telling his story almost better than I could write it. 

            “What were the first weeks/years like as a deputy”? Ellis took a moment, took another sip of whiskey then answered. “It was like being a prince in a royal family. The only difference was we were protecting the town from evil. Duncan named me and our two other deputies “The Crusaders”. We were active in ridding the town of crime and evil and keeping the citizens and businesses safe. There were 3 major threats in that territory at the time: Mexican Bandits, Apache Indians and Outlaw Cowboys”. 

            “My first incident on the job was a call over to the town saloon. Two Cowboys had gone in and refused to check their firearms with the bartender. Deliberately defying a town ordinance. Their reputation was well known in town. The Cowboys were ruthless criminals. They would rob, steal, murder, cattle rustle, rape and just about do whatever they could. Most of the time they would do meaningless things like this just to cause a stir. Duncan hated every one of them and they hated him back. He used to say just as in the Bible good and evil can never be friends. If there’s one thing I learned in my career he was right, good and evil can never be friends”.

            “So one of the locals comes in the office and says the Cowboys were causing a raucous”. Duncan looks over at me and says “You’re up kid, let’s see what you got”. So me and Deputy Johnson grab our rifles and head down. As we walk in Cactus Jack and Lazarus Jones were drinking at the bar. They turned and we locked eyes. “Well look who it is, Duncan’s little pretty boys”. I looked straight into his eyes “You boys can read the sign on the road right? Says you need to check in your firearms”. These guys were hardened older outlaws, I knew they were trying to challenge me being a young deputy. “You little sons of b*****s come in here enforcing Duncan’s laws, tell that yellow belly coward to come enforce his own laws”. I didn’t flinch: “You boys going to check your arms or you wanna dry out in jail for a few days”? Jack and Jones both turned to face me and deputy Johnson. Johnson cocked the hammer on his rifle and pointed it at them. “You boys really wanna die over this”, I said. There was a long pause and you could cut the tension in the room with a knife. They both put one hand up, undid their gun belts and handed them to the bartender. Cactus Jack turned to grab the bottle of whiskey and said, “Y’all can go to hell with your boss”. I smiled at them and said “Pleasure doing business with you gentlemen”. We turned and left the saloon.

            After that day I had gained not only the respect of my peers but the people in town as well. Word travels fast in a small town like that and word got out that the Marshall had a new deputy that was worth his salt. From that day on I was welcomed in the town differently. As a young man with that responsibility it felt great. However as Duncan had warned me I also became a target. He would always say it was an honor to hold the office and as such we were to be honorable men. I was naïve to the weight of responsibility I had taken on. As many people as I had gained respect from, the same amount if not more I had made enemies. I soon found out exactly how tough it was to be a lawman. When a man needs you, you’re a hero. That same man the next day may oppose you in a situation and see you as a villain. 

            I learned that you have to have thick skin. You need to be able to be able to do you job without showing unwanted emotion. There’s no loyalty from the public, businesses or politicians in town. You’re as valuable to them based on how much they need you. It’s almost like being a w***e working in a w***e house. When they need you you’re the number one w***e, the most beautiful one. When they don’t need you you’re the black sheep who a drunk wouldn’t even want to hump. 

            One of the best examples of this was when we saved a local during a robbery. She was a nice old lady and she had a son named Robert. One day while walking down the street 3 Cowboys tried to rush her and steal the goods she was carrying to her carriage. They up snatched her goods and pushed her to the ground not seeing me and Duncan walking around on the other side of the street. When we heard her scream Duncan quickly turned and fired a round hitting the ground in front of them. I pointed my rifle in the air and fired and yelled “stop”!!! They stopped on a dime and we walked over and arrested them. The woman was grateful and couldn’t stop thanking us. I remember feeling like a savior. I thought I was Jesus Christ that day, I had just saved a soul. 

            Two weeks later Duncan and I got called to the saloon for a fight between two men who were drunk. That same woman’s son had been drinking and insulted another man. The insults turned physical and it was on from there. When we arrived both men had blood on their face and they were tussling on the floor. We broke it up, spoke to the people in the saloon and it became clear that Robert was drunk and started the fight. We took him to jail him over night. As we were in the office a few hours after the arrest the old lady came in. She went straight to Duncan and began to hurl insults at him and yell that her son was innocent. I stood off to the side and watched in anger and fear. Duncan sat at the desk stood his ground and didn’t even flinch. She was acting like someone filled with hate toward the Marshall. The same Marshall who saved her life weeks before. She finally stopped, I figured she ran out of energy from the tantrum she’d thrown, and left. The Marshall turned to me and said; “You see why you need to have integrity and honor in this job? They’re going to hate you one minute and love you the next. Regardless your reputation will be what it is and no matter what they do or say, your reputation is all that matters. Don’t take it personal son, if you want to be good at this job, you’ve got to be able to leave your emotions at the door”. For the first time I realized there was more to this job than the glamour and lore I had seen as a kid. 

Violence and Death

            Ellis paused and poured some more whiskey in his glass. He looked at me and said “There’s never a day where I don’t need a glass of whiskey”. I smiled at him and sat back in my chair.he continued on “Whiskey is my medicine of choice. It helps numb the memories that are to painful to think about”. I look at him intrigued “ What made you realize that whiskey was a remedy for pain”?

Ellis took another drink looked down and then took another drink.

            “Tucson territory had been somewhat peaceful my first few years as a deputy. But as more whites migrated west and after the Mexican American war, the territory became more violent. Native Americans saw the whites as a threat. Mexicans and Apaches had been at war and hated each other for a long time before any whites or Spanish settlers landed in that area. The area was a melting pot and the more the military had issues with the Apache, the more the area became violent. The military generals wanted nothing to do with area and were rumored to have said they wished to give the territory back to Mexico”. 

            “As a young man you never forget your first experience with death and your worst experience”. Ellis took another drink, looked out into the distance and then brought his attention back. “There was a family who lived along the Sonoita and had a nice ranch style home. Fred Walker was the mans name and he and his wife lived there with there two kids. He had recently become a miner, but previously he was a scout and trader for the military with the Apaches. He was well respected with the Apache nation, chiefs Cochise and Mangas Coloradas had mutual respect for him. He was a rare white man in that area.

            One day in the summer he came into town to talk to Duncan. He told him that he was worried because he had been involved in the peace deal that led to Mangas Coloradas death that the Apache would be would be coming for him. He thought they would blame him. Mangas Coloradas was not only the most well respected Apache chief but was seen as a god by his tribe due to his physical stature and height. When word got out he was killed in a military camp, it was a declaration of war and everyone knew the Apache were going to strike back. 

            Marshall Duncan assured Walker he would send deputies to guard he and his family until he was able to be assured he was not a target. Walker left somewhat reassured but you could tell he was still worried”. Duncan turned to me and said “You and I will head out in an hour. We’ll take the first watch. I’m going to warn you right now kid if the Apache show up they ain’t no Cowboys. If you have a God better make peace with him now”. As a young naïve kid I just laughed it off gathered my supplies, rifle and ammunition and got ready to make the journey out to the river”. 

            “Duncan and I headed down to the ranch as we got about 300 yards out we saw smoke and Apache’s fleeing. My heart started racing as our horses galloped full speed ahead. As we got to the front of the house there was a small fire inside the house”. Ellis paused, took a drink, swallowed the whiskey. “We found Walker and his wife hanging from a cactus upside down. Walker was scalped and blood was dripping to the ground. His wife was moaning and was trying to yell for help. The trauma was making her gasp for air while she was trying to yell help”. Ellis took another drink and for the first time showed signs of being uncomfortable while discussing an event. “As we got off our horses we pulled our guns and ran up. Have you ever heard a human being die? It’s one of the most horrifying sounds you’ll ever hear. It’s also a sound you’ll never forget. To this day I can still hear that woman gasping for air and saying help. That image and sound would appear in my sleep for the next year”. 

            I had turn away and started vomiting. The smell and the shock from what I saw was overwhelming. Duncan got off looked around and stared off into the distance. Once I was able to pull myself together I walked over to him. He turned to me said “You good kid”? “You first one you’re never going to forget. This is the job, you won’t save everyone and you’ll blame yourself for things like this. The trick is to keep a strong mind and strong bottle of whiskey”. A family was dead and there was nothing we could do to change it. The sight and sounds would be forever engrained in my memory. There was nothing we could about it. We took the bodies down and grab water to put out the fire that they had started in the grass”. 

            “The ride back to town was a quiet one. We didn’t talk at all. When we got back to the office we walked in, Duncan grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a drink, he handed me the bottle and said, “Take a drink kid, it’s going to help”. I sat there and drank till I couldn’t feel anything. The time seemed to go by as slow as a turtle race. That night I had a nightmare and woke up still hearing the woman moaning. Duncan told me the whiskey would help but all it did was mask the pain for a while. Nevertheless that’s the day I started drinking whiskey. Also the day I began to realize that death was going to be a permanent occurrence in my job. The reality I was becoming accustomed to didn’t seem real.

Violence

            I was wrapped up in the emotion and description of the stories Ellis was telling. Time was standing still. I kept on with the questions because I wanted to keep the momentum going. “What was it like when you took over for Marshall Duncan”? Ellis gave a little smirk and took a drink. “Duncan stepped down when I was 30 years old. The territory was getting more violent and uncontrollable. Though I was the youngest of the deputies, he felt that I was the right man for the position. Some of the people and town politicians weren’t entirely happy with the decision but had enough respect for him to respect my appointment. He would be a mentor to me until the day he died. I was forever grateful to him, he was the only father figure I ever had”.

            “it seemed like over time violence became a way of life in Arizona. Specifically in Tucson, there were many murders and deaths due to shootouts and fighting. Apaches were at war with the military. Militias were at war with the Apaches. Mexicans were at war with the Apaches. It was like a smoldering furnace waiting to explode. Cowboys were also another clan that was a menace. My first encounter with them as sheriff was one of the craziest shootouts I’ve ever been in”. 

            Ellis was well known for what he was about to talk about. Everyone knew about the Great Tucson Shootout. I had wrote a piece on it and it became lore in the Arizona territory. I was excited to hear Ellis side of the story. “The Cowboys had been involved in a string of robberies on the outskirts of Tucson. We were aware of what they were doing and me and my deputies were at the ready for them strike in town”. Ellis took another sip of whiskey and paused before he continued about the shootout. I began to notice that there was a routine that when he was about to speak on a event he always took a sip of whiskey. 

            Ellis continued “our office was on the south end of town about 100 yards from the Tucson bank. It was about 8 o’clock in the morning on Monday. I was outside drinking coffee with my deputies and watching the people in town. On Mondays the bank opened earlier so people could go in and do what they needed to with their accounts. Typically our bank was closed on the weekend and most of everything was closed at least until 2pm on Sunday out of reverence for the sabbath. So Monday was a busy day for the bank. 

            “I counted about 10 people that walked in right as the bank opened. They had two armed guards that stood outside the front door and 3 that walked the perimeter. Almost all of these guards were inexperienced young men that volunteered for the job. Which I always felt was one of the reasons they had put the sheriffs office so close to the bank. We would be able to respond quickly if something happened. Up until this day we were fortunate to not have any incidents at the bank. Even banditos from the south had not tried to to rob out bank”.

            Ellis continued “It was just after 8 when 3 Cowboys rode into town and pulled up across the street from the station. They got off their horses and began to smoke cigarettes. Me and my 3 deputies noticed them right away and all of a sudden we were on alert. A couple minutes went by and 3 more came riding by straight to the bank. They parked their horses outside the bank and walked in. Something was suspicious and I could feel it. After a few minutes I walked into the office to get my rifle and it all began”.

            “As I grabbed the rifle I heard two shots I turned to look out the door and the Cowboys across the street opened fire on my deputies. One of my deputies Craig took one straight in the forehead and dropped. My other two deputies returned fire. I went over behind the door and the window that faced out toward the bank. I saw the three Cowboys come running out with coin sacks. As they came out they shot a guard and a woman both ended up dying. I aimed my rifle their way and shot 2 of their horses. They dropped their sacks and went for cover to return fire. I aimed my rifle and shot one then quickly reloaded and shot another. Both hit directly in the chest and went down. My deputies were still shooting it out with the other 3 across the street”.

            “There was one left in front of the bank and I had him pinned down. Just then I heard my deputy Hank give out a loud moan. He has been shot straight through the gut. I could start to feel the pressure build. It was now four on two and we were at a disadvantage. It was then I decided to make a move to try and end this siege. I turned to the doorway and told my last deputy Matthias turn to your left and take the one by the bank and I’ll handle the three across the street. I reloaded my rifle and walked out the doorway and started firing. The three Cowboys were behind two boxes in front of the good store across the street. I walked toward them and fired. One fired back and I could hear the round go by my head I returned fire and struck him between the eyes. The other two fired one shot each one struck my coat and the other completely missed. They both got up to run and I shot both of them in the back. My deputy was still engaged with the last remaining cowboy in front of the bank. I turned from the middle of the street maybe less than 50 yards out and fired at him striking him in the eye. He fell face first into the dirt.”. 

            Ellis was telling the story as I had heard it before but in much more detail. I was trying to conceal my excitement as I wrote down what he was saying. He continued: “When the smoke cleared Matthias and I walked toward the bank and grabbed the coin sacks and walked them back to the bank. We had managed to stop a robbery and kill 6 Cowboys in the process. I had a whole in my jacket and Matthias was fine. I walked back towards the office to my deputies who had been killed. I stood over them for a second as the preacher came over. I turned and looked at him and just walked into the office”. 

            I replied “Doc the courage it took for you to do what you did”….. he cut me off, “Everyone says that courage, hero blah blah but no one talks about the aftermath”. I was puzzled, he took a drink of his whiskey and continued: “Ya what I did was crazy but it was instinctive just to survive. There’s no time to feel like a hero when you lose two deputies. I bet you ain’t never heard of Alison Featherstone either? After I went back into my office some lady come in and tell me to come across the street into the goods store. 8 year old Alison was laying dead with a that went straight through her throat. Blood drenched the floor, it didn’t even look real. It looked like a rag doll laying on top of paint. Her mother Mary was sobbing over her”. I was speechless, you only hear about the glory and never the reality of these shootouts. Ellis began to look angry as sipped his whiskey. 

            “From the direction of where they were I could only assume that one of my deputies were responsible. But ultimately it’s my responsibility no matter how you slice it and I felt that way. I hugged Mary and she wept on my shoulder. I couldn’t even muster up a facial expression I was so numb. It seemed like time stood still and 5 minutes seemed like 5 days as Mary wept in my arms. The preacher and undertaker came in after about ten minutes and I walked out and back to the office where Matthias was already drinking. I went in and sat down and poured myself a glass. We sat there for a half hour with a glazed look in our eyes and didn’t say a word to each other”. 

            “I received an award from the mayor in the days that followed. Attended 3 funerals for my two deputies and for Alison. I saw widows weep and a mother devastated. Alison’s image laying dead was imprinted in my head for the rest of my life. I couldn’t sleep for a good two weeks. Nightmares and my conscience wouldn’t let me rest. You and everyone else have made me a legend out of that shootout. We saved all the money but lost lives and lost a little girl and no one was held responsible. Until today I’ve kept silent but I’m almost positive it was a stray bullet from me or my deputies. So while I’ve been hailed as a legend, I’ve always felt like we did nothing. The guilt of the aftermath of that event, never allowed me to accept that I was a legend, I’m not”. 

Reflections and Conclusions

            Evil

            As we were concluding the interview I hoped to get Ellis’s final thoughts on things he had experienced as a lawman. He had seen and experienced so much I knew that my readers would be intrigued and impacted by his thoughts on the various elements of the job that he had experienced. The interview had been great up to this point and I felt like this was the appropriate time to conclude it.

            “Doc based on your experience, what are your thoughts on evil”? Ellis looked me in the eye and said: “Evil is everywhere and no one can stop it. From the orphaned black slave in the south to the baptist white kid from a good family, each is capable of the same heinous evil. I learned in my time as as a lawman that there’s no such thing as good people. There’s people that are disciplined and have self control whether it be from religion or something else and there’s people that don’t. I saw Apaches murder out of necessity and they were called evil and I’ve seen whites kill for no reason and be called evil. I’ve seen people commit evil acts out of necessity to survive and I’ve seen our own military commit evil in the name of “good”. 

            “I was never a religious man and I still am not. I never believed in a God and I still don’t. But I will say this there is definitely a devil, only the devil could make a human being commit some of the heinous acts I’ve seen. As I said before any man no matter his ethnicity is capable of the same evil. My only explanation for that is a supernatural force such as the devil. Only the devil can take a human being and force them to be uncontrollable and mentally unstable to commit the acts of evil I’ve seen. Burning people alive, killing women and children, scalping, murdering that can’t come from a human heart. You’ll never be able to stop evil the only thing you can do is fight it head on and with fierce passion in order to keep it in check”.

Death

            “What about death Doc? What are your thoughts on death”? “Death is a part of the job and it is the worst part of the job. I never regretted killing a criminal whether he be white Mexican or Apache, but I couldn’t say that I felt good about it. It was just part of the job and in most shootouts it becomes a matter of survival. If you don’t kill them they are going to kill you. But I never delighted in taking a life, I can tell you the faces and names of every man I killed. All of them deserved to die because of the choices they made but it’s a hell of thing taking someone’s life. Anyone who doesn’t feel anything about killing someone is a psychopath”.

            “I always hated death but also saw it as a form of justice. Mostly because though my father was brutally murdered in front of me for no apparent reason, there was no doubt in my mind that he deserved that death for how he treated his family. That attitude and outlook on death helped me cope with seeing death during my career. I never became comfortable with it and I’ve never understood why it was necessary but it just was”.

            “What I hated most about death is that there is no discrepancies or bias when the reaper comes. I could never understand and it bothered me to see innocent people die. I saw kids burned to death, I saw innocent people stabbed and shot. That never sat well with me. If I’m being completely honest that is partly why I never saw a reason to believe in a God. How can there be a God that allows evil men to hurt and murder innocent people. At the same point if there is a God and a heaven I guess they get a quicker ticket to paradise”.

Duty and Honor

            “Doc as you look back, how would you sum up the words duty and honor as a lawman”? “Duty is doing your job. No matter what you happens you have do to your duty. It’s not an easy thing and sometimes your duty can conflict with what’s right. Many times on smaller incidents in town I was put in a position where I had to uphold the law even if I wasn’t fully convicted about it. I never liked being in that position and there were a few times where I decided to let people off with a warning instead of taking them in”.        

            “The one thing I always said was it was my duty to protect the people from evil men. More often than not I was able to do that. But there were plenty of times that I didn’t and by that standard I was unable to fulfill my duty. I can’t tell you the names and faces of every criminal and bad man I arrested or killed. But I can see every face of everyone I failed to protect and that alone if I have to sum up my duty over my career is enough for me to feel like a failure. And as far as honor goes, you only have to be honorable to yourself”.

Reflections on your life

            “Doc can you sum up your life as a lawman and reflect on your life in general”? “Sure, I chose the only life I was exposed to that I thought would bring meaning to my life. I followed the only man that was any type of father or role model to me. There was no question that being a lawman was what I was going to do. I never cared to married, I had my share of women, but there was nothing more important to me then my job. I’m called a legend but I don’t feel like one, some people call me great but I don’t feel great. In a way I feel like I signed up to fight a war against evil that ended in a draw. No good man whether he be a bounty hunter, Marshall or Sheriff will ever win that war. The last 5 years of my career I felt like the world was getting more out of control and evil and I was only seeing it in Tucson”.

            “But on the other hand, I feel as though I did my duty to the best of my ability. Cowboys and Apache never terrorized Tucson. The people of our town were safe and were never subject to any major shootings, robberies or massacres. I only lost two deputies in the line of duty and that was during the shootout. I was able to avoid any political battles with politicians and judges. I know that my peers respected me, the people respected me and the Cowboys feared me. For that I can rest well at night knowing that I lived my life with a purpose and did my job to the best of my ability”. 

            I had one last question for Doc that I thought would be a good end to complete the interview. “In closing Doc what advice or what would you say to the young police men of today regarding what they should expect from the life”? He smirked and sat back for what seemed like 5 minutes. Time seemed to stand still. “I would say to them be ready to deal with your conscience. The only thing that speaks me everyday is my conscience. Most of my friends are dead, I’ve never had a family and I’ve never sought out a true relationship with a woman. So ever since I retired the only thing that talks to me is my conscience. If you can do your job and always do the right thing there won’t be much to talk about. You’ll always have regrets and you’re going to question things you did, but if you do your duty with integrity your conscience should be clear”.

            He continued: “Anyone who does this job to fight evil and always does the right thing should retire with their head held high. You won’t be able to escape the ugly things you’ve seen, but you can rest assured that you did your duty the right way. I would also say to them not to be fooled, evil will never be defeated and nowadays some of the most evil people are the ones who make the laws you’re going to be enforcing. Your job is to defend law abiding citizens and fight evil but you’re never going to defeat evil. Too many young men get into this profession thinking they can wipe out evil and become dragged down and disenfranchised with the life when they realize they can’t”.

            “Well Doc I really appreciate you taking the time to meet with me tonight, it’s been an honor to do this interview with you”. Doc looked at me and said “I’m glad you came kid, it was good to get this stuff off my chest “. He got up and shook my hand, walked over to the bar area and grabbed a new bottle of whiskey and gave it to me. I was struck with gratitude and a bit of emotion that I had to contain. Over the time we had spent he had gone from stone cold legend to human being. I walked out of the house and went to my car. As I drove home that night I couldn’t wait to begin working on the story.

            A week later I got a phone call that Doc had died in his sleep. His funeral was attended by a few hundred people in Tucson and the mayor and governor both spoke. Citizens of Tucson paid their respects in droves and I was able to meet some people who shared stories about Doc. Most of them sounded far fetched and made up but nonetheless it was nice to hear how much impact he had on this town. Doc is buried in Tucson’s cemetery and his tombstone reads “Gilbert “Doc” Ellis Protector of Tucson. I think he would be okay with that engraving and I’m sure if need be, God probably has him guarding the gates of heaven”.