My Personal West: Cap’n Bob Napier
Other than a short stint in Louisiana when I was a toddler, I grew up on the east coast–Rhode Island, Maryland, Virginia, New York. My father was a Navy man and we followed the fleet. All I knew about the West I gleaned from movies, TV shows, and little plastic figures from such toymakers as Marx, Ideal, Lido, MPC, Archer, and others. Like most of the other kids in my era I had a cap gun and cowboy hat. I even had a set of chaps with matching vest, a gift from Aunt Peggy when I was five.
Saturday mornings were filled with B-Western movies from the thirties and forties. I’m sure they were part of a show called Six-Gun Theater or the like, but I have no memory of a title or a host. It seems the movies were always running when I switched on the TV, as though in a continuous loop. I had no idea who starred in any particular movie. They seemed of a piece to me. Grainy picture, endless chases, guns that never ran out of bullets, wagon wheels that ran backwards, and sped-up fist fights. Oh, and horses that had one speed: full gallop.
TV shows like Roy Rogers, Fury, Tales of the Texas Rangers, The Cisco Kid, The Adventures of Rin Tin Tin, Hopalong Cassidy, Wild Bill Hickock, 26 Men, Gene Autry, Annie Oakley, and many others occupied my days. At night I watched Gunsmoke, Have Gun, Will Travel, Yancy Derringer, The Life and Legend of Wyatt Earp, Death Valley Days, Wagon Train, Rawhide, The Lone Ranger, The Adventures of Jim Bowie, and Broken Arrow. Also at night was the lineup of memorable Westerns from the Warner Brothers stable–Cheyenne, Maverick, Sugarfoot, Bronco, and Colt .45. Disney gave us his iconic Davy Crockett shows as well as Zorro, Elfego Baca, Andy Burnett and Texas John Slaughter. I’ve left out many others, but this is a good sampling of the shows that kept me enthralled and made my boyhood jammed with fun and adventure, however vicarious.
When I wasn’t watching television or having gunfights with my friends I liked to play with my cowboys, cavalry, and Indians. I had figures from other eras, too, but the Old West was my favorite. I owned three Marx playsets: Roy Rogers Rodeo Ranch, Rin Tin Tin Fort Apache, and Fort Pitt. I also had scores of loose figures I bought from Woolworth’s or the base exchange. I always considered playing with my figures a solo effort. I’d meticulously position every combatant and when they were all in place I’d lie on the floor and view them from every angle, adjusting as necessary. When it came time for the battle the dramatic sounds of battle–war whoops, gunshots, and a stirring musical track–filled my head.
With all this love of Western themes it seems odd that I rarely read a book on the subject. In fact, I didn’t become a fan of Western fiction until about a decade ago. Before that I was deeply into mysteries and before that comic books. These days my reading consists of 90% Westerns and the rest mysteries and a dollop of non-fiction. Most of that non-fiction, in turn, deals with Custer’s Last Stand, a subject I find endlessly fascinating.
In 1969 I left the east and settled in California. Nine years later I moved to Washington State and have been here ever since. Now that I’m a denizen of the west I’ve had a chance to enjoy a few of its historical sites firsthand. Wichita, Oklahoma City, Dallas, Tombstone, and most recently the Museum of the American West in L.A. I’ve been to The Little Bighorn Battlefield and driving through western Montana gave me the feeling of endless landscape like no other place on Earth. Wyoming, Utah, Missouri, North Dakota, and Nevada–I’ve seen them all, if only through my windshield. I can ride a horse, shoot a gun, and find my way out of the deep woods. Best of all, I can escape into the world of the frontier whenever I want by opening a book or firing up a DVD. Or I can play with my toys.
Cover Gallery: Annie Oakley
Cover Gallery: Gunsmoke
