I Used to Be a Texas Ranger: Triumphs and Tribulations of an Old West Lawman

By Robert J Gossett

Ride with Buck Jones, as he is transformed from an Oklahoma farm boy who is orphaned when a tornado destroys the farm, and kills his parents. Follow him as he is raised by his aunt and uncle in San Antonio, Texas. Now a man, he joins his uncle as a deputy sheriff and meets his partner and friend, Jose. They become known as dos pistoleros.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 10, 2011
• ISBN: 9781463442606

Robert J Gossett

Gossett lived in San Antonio for thirty years and traveled the State extensively selling steel products. Many ranchers were his customers, and became his friends. During his travels he made many friends who were more than willing to share their experiences, and stories they had heard, with him. One of these friends was a retired Texas Ranger, and some of his adventures,he shared, are included in this book. Though Gossett now lives in Kenosha Wisconsin, he maintains his memberships in the American Legion Alamo Post #2, and The Texas Library Association. He also stays in contact with many of his Texas friends.

Book preview

Contents

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to the late Shirley Ranker who encouraged me to resume writing.

AND

To the late Sherrilynn and Don McClain who lived the life I can only write about.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

A writer can only get ideas, turn them into words, and put them down on paper. Then a dedicated team must take over and prepare the manuscript for publication. My thanks to the Following people who worked so hard on this manuscript:

Amy Slanchik for her excellent typing.

Sharon Slanchik for a great job of editing.

Dennis Ray whose talent for proof reading is amazing.

Tih Kobolson for her beautiful art work.

CHAPTER 1

THE TORNADO HITS

Buchanan (everyone called him Buck) Jones was born in Muskogee, Oklahoma. When he was eleven years old a violent tornado hit his family’s small farm. His mother hustled him into the storm cellar while his dad went to look after the horses in the barn. His mother ordered him to remain in the cellar while she went to check on why his dad had not returned.

Buck was frightened so he tried to block out the terrible noise of the storm. First, he heard a high-pitched sound like the top strings of a violin, then the terrible noise like a freight train running over the top of the storm cellar. Several times the wooden shelter door flew open, but Buck was able to grab the dangling rope and force it closed again.

Buck sat and trembled, wishing his mother was there to snuggle up with him. After a few minutes, the noise abruptly stopped but soon resumed louder and more ferocious than ever. After what seemed hours, but actually was only a few minutes, the terrible noise subsided and Buck got up the courage to go outside. He saw that the sky was completely red with the sun struggling to shine through small openings only occasionally. The first thing he looked for was the house, but there was no house, only the rubble of boards, broken furniture, and household items strewn all over the property.

The next horrible sight coming into his view was a hundred-year-old oak tree, which once held his rope swing, snapped off a foot from the ground. The trunk of the tree covered his mother’s waist as if placed there by a sadistic giant. He rushed to her assistance but there was no movement. He knew enough to check her wrist for a pulse, but there was none. He wanted to kiss her but the blood that had spewed from her mouth repulsed him.

Then he saw what was left of the barn. Most of it had been blown away, but what did remain revealed no sign of life, livestock, or human. His dad was gone, too. Buck collapsed on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, and crying out for his Ma or Pa. For at least an hour he lay there crying, then started cursing as he had heard his dad do on occasion, Damn it, damn it, damn it to hell.

Knowing nothing else to do, and still in a state of shock, Buck started walking, walking and crying. He knew town was only five miles away so he would go there. He thought maybe someone in town could tell him what he should do—that is, if town was still there.

He didn’t know how far he had walked when he saw a horse and rider approaching from the direction he was walking toward.

Hey boy, what are you doing out here? the rider asked. It was Sheriff Thompson.

Tears were still streaming down his cheeks when he answered, I don’t know—I figured I would walk into town for help, Buck answered.

Where are your Ma and Pa?

They’re dead, killed by the storm, and the farm blowed away, Buck replied.

Well, jump up here behind me, the sheriff said, and we’ll go take a look.

I really don’t want to see it again. Buck said. Could you just take me to town?

Sure, sure, I’ll take you to town then come back and have a look by myself, Thompson said.

When they reached the outskirts of Muskogee, Thompson told Buck, I really don’t know what to do with you, but for right now I’ll take you to my house and my wife can look after you until I get back, Thompson told him.

Buck was surprised to see the town still standing and asked, How come the town didn’t get blowed away too?

I don’t know, boy. Just an act of God, I suppose, came the response.

Mrs. Thompson (Tina) came out of the house and took Buck into her home while her husband rode out to look over the damage by the Jones’ farm. Buck was still sobbing as Tina asked him, What happened to you, son?

I don’t rightly know ma’am. Pa was in the barn when the wind started to blow. Me and Ma was in the shelter, but she left to check on Pa and a tree blowed over on top of her, Buck answered.

You poor thing, Tina said. Would you like a sandwich and milk?

Yes ma’am, I am kinda’ hungry, Buck replied. After he ate Tina made him a bed on the sofa. He slept, but restlessly. When Tina went to check on him she saw his arms and legs twitching, and she heard him still sobbing.

When Tina heard Ted returning she went outside to talk to him.

How’s the boy? Ted asked.

He’s sleeping now but not well. I fed him and he finally got to sleep on the sofa, she reported.

Their farm is completely gone. His mother is dead, pinned under a tree, and every building is destroyed, Ted said.

Did you find his Pa? she asked.

Parts of him, just parts, in the wrecked barn. Who knows where the rest of him went? Ted answered.

What are you going to do? she asked.

I’m going to ask the county commissioner to approve sending a county crew out there to bury the bodies and clean up the rubble.

What about the boy? she asked.

I guess I will just have to put him in that orphanage out east of town.

Oh Ted, please don’t do that. I visited there once, and it is a horrid place, she pleaded.

OK. We’ll talk about it when I get back from the commissioner’s office, Ted said and rode off for town.

Buck was awake when Ted returned. He drank another glass of milk while Ted and Tina shared a pot of coffee.

Ted asked Buck, Don’t you have any relatives?

Not around here. I think I have an aunt and uncle in Texas, but I don’t know where, Buck answered.

What is their name? the sheriff asked.

Aunt Myrtle and Uncle John, Buck said.

Do you know their last name? Ted asked.

I think Uncle John was Pa’s brother, Buck answered.

Where do they live in Texas? the sheriff asked.

I don’t remember the name of the town; I think it had a Mexican name, Buck replied.

Well that probably accounts for about half the towns in Texas, Ted said.

I’m sorry, but that is all I remember. But wait—I think a famous battle was fought there, in some church I think, Buck said.

You mean the Alamo? Ted asked.

That’s it, the Alamo, Buck responded.

Then that would be San Antonio, Ted volunteered.

Yeah, that’s it, San Antonio, Buck responded.

Good going, son. I’ll send a telegram to the sheriff tomorrow and ask him to locate a John Jones for me, Ted said.

Do you think he has a chance of finding a John Jones in a big town like that? Tina asked.

A hell of a lot better chance than trying to locate a Jose Vargas,