"Whiskey For My Men". A Public Letter Of Praise For Two Armed Citizens

[Rachen]

"Git' yer guns boys! They're robbin' the bank!"...

Those were the famous words screamed out by J.S. Allen, the owner of the hardware store in the town of Northfield, Minnesota on that fateful day of September 7, 1876 as the James-Younger gang, led by notorious outlaws and well-known violent criminals Jesse James and his brother Frank, took the employees of the First National Bank hostage and demanded to be given all the cash from inside the vault. Within the next few minutes, one of the most feared bandit gangs of the Old West were blasted into the pages of history by a hail of bullets.

The men who fired these bullets and took down one of the most violent sagas of the post Civil War USA were not special police officers, SWAT tactical teams, or military personnel. They were the common citizens of the town of Northfield who shared a common obligation of mutual defense and courage in the face of evil. To put it into shorter words, these men stood up to be counted when the time called. And stood up they did. Today we wonder what would have happened if the townsmen of Northfield were not armed on that fateful day? Or worse, if they had been armed but instead, decided that the bandit raid was none of their business and simply waited for authorities to show up. After all, it wasn't their own houses that were being robbed. We could safely assume that the James-Younger gang would have taken many, many more lives on that day. Especially once they realized that the bank vault's mechanism has been compromised by the late Joseph Lee Heywood. And they would have went on to wreak more havoc across the sparsely populated frontier, while leading authorities and local militia on a wild goose chase that would have been both expensive and dangerous.

But that didn't happen. And the reason why that didn't happen, is because ordinary citizens in that time of crisis realized that they simply could not stand there and watch as their fellow neighbors and friends were being brutalized. Just a couple of days ago, on the 5th of November, 2017, more than 130 years since the James-Younger gang met their demise in Northfield, something chillingly similar, and far more sinister happened that showed just what a couple of determined, courageous and selfless individuals are capable of in the face of the most harrowing danger. For on that day, Devin Patrick Kelley, a violent sociopath and misfit, decided that he had a mission. A mission to take as many innocent lives as possible. Armed to the teeth and prepared for war, Kelley walked into a peaceful church gathering in Sutherland Springs, Texas, and gunned down 25 unarmed men, women and children in cold blood. And no, he was not done yet. Not by a long shot. Judging by the amount of ammunition and other firearms that were found in the rear of his SUV, we can safely assume that he was prepared to inflict carnage on an even greater scale. The only thing was, he never got to take a few more steps from the same church that he decimated and defiled, before his plans were literally blasted out of his hands.

For waiting just across the street from the church was Stephen Willeford, 55 years old, and a neighbor of the church who had heard the terrific sounds of carnage and had ran outside, barefoot and clutching a rifle of his own. In the ensuing showdown, two of Willeford's bullets crashed into Kelley's abdomen and the crazed killer dropped his own weapon. As he attempted to flee the scene of the slaughter, Willeford flagged down a truck belonging to his neighbor, Johnnie Langendorff, 28, and both men pursued Kelley down a state highway, reaching speeds of over 95 miles per hour before the killer struck a light post and tumbled into a ditch. Mortally wounded and slowly bleeding to death from the gunshot wounds in his torso, Devin Patrick Kelley managed to make one final phone call to his father to inform him that he was dying, before he drew a handgun and ended his own cowardly and pathetic life.

What happened on that day when Hell came to visit the peaceful town of Sutherland Springs was a demonstration of the definition of a true hero. In subsequent interviews with the media, Willeford admitted that he knew the gravity of the situation that he was headed into, and that he knew that he could very well be headed to his death. And yet, he pushed all doubts and fears deep within him and found the resolve to stand up and be counted in the face of pure evil, an evil that was prepared and determined to inflict maximum destruction on society's most vulnerable and defenseless targets. However, what made Willeford and Langendorff different from most other tragic cases of terroristic mass murders was that these two men were simply ordinary citizens who were caught in the wrong place at the wrongest possible time. Like countless other people who ran for their lives screaming and bolting in blind panic from similar situations that have sadly occurred in multiple occasions all over the world, these two men could have done the same. But they didn't. Just like the citizens of Northfield, Minnesota more than 120 years ago, they ran towards the face of evil and used a combination of ingenuity, instinct and deadly marksmanship to take it down and make sure that it could not rise up to inflict further damage ever again.

When I was very young, I had grown up spending a few years in my family's home in northern China. Being from that desolate and rugged land, I had been greatly accustomed to rifles, archery and the hunting of dangerous game since I had just learned to walk. Therefore, it is no great surprise that this love for anything associated with cowboys and the Old West stayed with me throughout adolescence and adulthood. In grade school when every other boy would be immersed in Magic cards and Power Rangers, I preferred to watch endless runnings of The Rifleman and Gunsmoke. When Eminem and the Backstreet Boys became the height of popularity, I could not care less as long as I can turn on the TV and see John Wayne and Clint Eastwood taming the western frontier with their lever action Winchesters. Now you may ask, how does this have anything to do with the subject of this letter? All of this boils down to a certain incident which I can still vividly remember after all these years. It had been a wintry day in the beginning of 1995, when I was in the third grade of elementary school, when my teacher asked our class what we wanted to be when we grew up. When it was my turn to answer, I had replied "I want to be a cowboy". At that, the teacher became slightly puzzled. Having heard the usual mixture of comic book superheroes, planet-conquering intergalactic warriors and princesses who could fly on magic carpets, my answer sure was different and unconventional. "Cowboy?", she had asked, kindly but still slightly perplexed. "You mean, the ones who carry guns on their hips and sometimes shoot people?" "No", was my answer. "The ones who wear guns on their hips but only shoot bad people". At which she gave a soft and warm laugh and said, "Aww, but you know, that was long, long ago, when there were no policemen to protect people. Today, there are no cowboys because we don't need them anymore. We have electric lights, safe cities and lots of policemen everywhere." With that reply, I had to think long and hard to offer a reasonable and convincing statement. Subsequently, that particular class project was over and the entire scene became pushed to the back of my mind in the coming years as the pressures of schoolwork, friendships, relationships, and jobs became the forefront. But never entirely though.

Today, I am just as religious about watching and reading old Westerns as I was when I was in grade school. Black and white footage of classical legends like Johnny Ringo and John Wayne and David Sharpe riding across desolate plains to bring evildoers to justice still dominate the screen in my den. And it is when I watch those timeless legends that I realize one thing: All those legendary figures who confronted and fought against evil on celluloid film are in reality, no different than real life heroes who risk life and limb to protect their own fellow citizens in times of great turmoil. Heroes like Stephen Willeford, Johnnie Langendorff, and the townsmen of Northfield, Minnesota who stood up to be counted when Hell came a' calling. Men like my very own cousin who had been in the city of Urumqi during the ethnic riots of 2008 and used his tiny bookstore as a shelter where almost 100 people, both Han Chinese and innocent Muslims huddled for safety during the worst of the fighting. The same man, who had stood behind the counter, guarding the only entrance and exit to the shop with a hunting bow and a sheaf of arrows and killed 4 machete-wielding terrorists as they attempted to enter. Sure, cowboys as they appear in popular conception may not exist any longer in our modern age but the spirit and resolve of those lonely riders and sharpshooters continue to stay with us and remains an inspiration for many. For if you ask any of these men who I have just mentioned above, they would tell you that they did not have to respond the way they did when disaster struck their hometowns. They could have just ran and cowered like so many others in the face of calamity. But they didn't.

We may live in an age where there are electric lights, safe cities and policemen everywhere to protect innocent people. But that does not stop psychopathic killers like Devin Patrick Kelley who are hellbent on wreaking destruction and mayhem. Nor does that hinder predatory extremist movements like ISIS or various racial/ethnic supremacy groups from inflicting carnage and terror on a wide scale. And these violent, sociopathic misfits who could only find satisfaction in making innocent and defenseless people suffer will not be thwarted by mass rallies or candlelight vigils. Or platitudes of "love and peace" and hand-holding parades. The only thing that history has proven to be effective in stopping these threats, is cold, lethal, and calculated marksmanship. Nothing else. They have chosen to use bullets and bombs against populations who have no means to defend themselves. And that is why we, those who HAVE the capability to respond, will use our own bullets in turn, and end these pathetic excuses for humanity right there and send them into the ground where they belong, and would not be able to hurt anyone else. On the day following the Sutherland Springs shootings I had brought home a newspaper after work and sat at my desk when my eyes came upon an entire section of the page describing, in intricate detail, how Stephen Willeford had neglected to even put on his shoes when he heard the gunfire erupting from the church, and ran barefoot across gravel and asphalt to take on the killer and his arsenal of mayhem, before wounding him and permanently taking him out of the fight. When my mother came into the room with a plate of breakfast ready for me, she had seen the tears flowing down my face and had asked me if I was okay. I responded by placing the paper right in front of her. Although her English is still very limited and she did not have the time to browse the entire page thoroughly she had seen the photograph of Stephen Willeford in the heading of the section, and immediately asked: "This man, wow, he looks just like the cowboys in those old movies. Did he kill the shooter of that church?" Damn sure he did. Although not directly and not immediately, it was his actions which put a premature end to the plans of a vicious psychopath, long before local police had even responded.

So, last but not least, we are going to ask: Am I a cowboy? After all those years, have I really fulfilled my initial "career" choice? Sure I wear a cowboy hat sometimes. But I drive a flatbed truck instead of riding a horse. And I live in a large building filled with kind and friendly city residents instead of in a lonely lantern-lit shack in the middle of a desert wasteland. However, I own a gun and is highly proficient in the handling and use of that gun, through training, target shooting and hunting. And above all else, I am fully ready and capable if the situation arises when I may have to use this firearm to defend not just myself and my immediate family, but any innocent people who may be caught in the wrong place and at the wrong time. And with the events of Sutherland Springs now on the international spotlight, it is our hope that more, far more people, will take inspiration from the heroes of this tragic saga and ask themselves: "Am I a hero or am I a coward? And when bad things happen, am I going to run and hide and live with the intolerable guilt, or am I going to stand firm, think clearly and make a damn difference?" Hard questions? Not so hard. After all, many of us have seen a great music video and song by country singer Toby Keith in 2005 titled "Beer For My Horses", and perhaps we all had nodded in approval and satisfaction when the criminal punk thought he had gotten away in the end, only to turn around and stare straight down the bore of Willie Nelson's loaded and cocked Colt 1851 Navy revolver. Well, all the barkeeps and saloon owners better keep their liquor stores nice and stocked, because in the future when evil strikes again, they can be certain that after the gunsmoke has settled, more of us will be showin' up ordering a round of whiskey for our men and beer to water our horses.

Git yer' guns boys!

Raymond Chen,
aka Rachen @ TFL
November 10, 2017

Thank you for reading and please spread it far and wide.

[mk70ss]

Amen sir. Your post is spot on and made my day reading it.

[OzeanJaeger]

I cried too when I read the full account. I cried when I read the account of Flight 93. I would get teary eyed if I read it right now.

There is no courage without fear.

"There is no greater love than this: that a person would lay down his life for the sake of his friends.” So sayeth The Lord.

We may not be a nation of heroes, but there are plenty of them among us. They renew my faith in our country.

[Aguila Blanca]

So ... you're another one o' them vi-gi-lan'-tees, eh?

I reckon I am, too.

[OzeanJaeger]

In my mind a vigilante is someone who goes looking for trouble. That's not the same thing as someone who is prepared to act if trouble comes looking for them.

[Rangerrich99]

To the OP: Thank you for your post. As a second generation Korean-American that grew up on the plains of OK and TX, I can identify with your childhood dreams of one day becoming a real cowboy. And endless hours of watching every John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, and any other cowboy movie that ran on those Saturday afternoons after I had done all my chores. Your post was a kind of trip down memory lane for me.

On a side note, can anyone provide a link to what was discovered in Devin Kelley's SUV? I keep trying various searches but haven't come up with anything credible. Thanks.

[Dufus]

A good story, but in all honestly, I don't think John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, Henry Fonda, et al could be a real cowboy. It is one of the hardest jobs in the world. Living on the range of the Texas Panhandle for over 30 years is in no way a picnic. I readily admit that I didn't do it but for maybe a week or so while visiting, but I had 3 cousins that were in it full time. The last one died 7 years ago at age 93....murdered by three cowardly brothers that were after his belongings.

[tony pasley]

I grew up on a West Texas cattle ranch until I was 17 and went into service. It ain't what the movies make it. Long days, hard work, excessive heat, cold mornings, dust in everything, Dangerous, and hours of boring time checking fences. Carried a rifle to protect livestock and myself, when I got old enough a pistol for snakes and hurt animals no bad guys to chase after.