Six of us are once again together to co-host our national radio show in 1928. My wife Carmen, her brother Francis Calderon, my sister Gwendolyn, and our friends Troy and Mary Edwards – and me, Riis Evans – were all born in the 1890s and grew up in the Rocky Mountains.
During a commercial break, I look over at books by Eugene Rhodes I keep on the studio’s bookshelf. Next to Good Men and True I’ve set Bransford in Arcadia, Hit the Line Hard, Desire of the Moth, and Stepsons of Light.
I look around at the other five. “Have you seen that Paso por Aqui is out in a new book? It was serialized in The Saturday Evening Post, remember?”
“A profound story!” Troy exclaims.
“His best yet!” Gwen enthuses.
“His masterpiece!” says Mary.
Francis nods. “I think Paso por Aqui finally brings to clarity and fullness what Rhodes has always been driving at.”
“Other writers get rich disparaging regular Americans,” I observe. “Not Gene Rhodes. He sees the regular American as a person of decency, loyalty, courage, helpfulness, and humor. To Rhodes, Americans work well with others, hold in high esteem the worth of human life, and endure.”
“The characters have such good qualities and virtues,” Carmen adds. “They are such authentic living people.”
“A story about higher ideals, higher justice,” Francis concludes.
The commercial comes to an end and Troy turns on the broadcast microphones. The red light comes on and we’re back on the airwaves of America.
I open up the new topic. “All right, let’s see if we can leave here today in agreement about something that’s important to all six of us.”
“Sounds good to me,” says Mary.
Gwen moves things along. “The best of American Western cowboy culture.”
Francis weighs in. “First I’d like to say that here in Colorado, Wyoming, and Montana – we’re some of the most literate, best educated, and most prosperous people in the world.” The other five of us offer a yes.
“Yes,” I say. “And we’ve had some writers who’ve gotten things right. Andy Adams, Will James, Owen Wister, and Eugene Rhodes are the four best writers of the American cowboy West,” I declare. “And Rhodes is the best of the four.”
“Agree,” says Carmen.
“Me too,” say the other four.
“Adams and James are factual narrators of the mode of the cowboy’s working life,” I continue. “Wister portrays the cowboy in his code. Rhodes is the peer of Adams and James in the factual realities and he’s the equal of Wister regarding the code. And none of the other three can match Rhodes in variety and scope.”
“That’s what’s impressive about Rhodes,” Gwen agrees.
“Now, Rhodes is not the greatest literary craftsman ever,” I admit.
“Indeed,” says Gwen.
“But his stories are fresh, vigorous, warm, charming, and interesting,” I say. “They’re well-paced tales with a light-running style. His stories are breathing with practical high principles. And his humor’s sardonic and often brilliantly witty.”
“That’s why we love Gene Rhodes!” whoops Troy.
“Just the beginning of why we love him. Eugene Rhodes is showing us that the true American cowboy or cowgirl, the true American Westerner, ranks as good as any gentleman or lady at any time and in any place.”
“Hurrah!” yells Troy.
“Hollywood and all these idiot writers have turned the cowboy life into one long shoot-‘em-up,” I lament. “Not how it was. Every true Westerner and every true cowboy would shoot if he was forced to, but he’d rather laugh. They hung or shot the worst among them only because without that house-cleaning, life would have been impossible.”
“That’s right!” shouts Troy.
Troy’s energy fuels mine. I keep going. “The West in its heyday was defined not by violence but by pioneers with invincible spirits – spirits tempered on this frontier to a cutting edge. They lived by honor and by the bond of a handshake. They had endless hardships and difficulties to overcome, but they were hardy and resourceful and ingenious. And they’d given happiness a long head start.”
Carmen is smiling. Francis is nodding. Gwen is grinning. Troy is clapping. And Mary is starting to sway.
Their enthusiasm brings mine to a peak. “The cowboys and other fine Westerners believed in good versus evil and preferred the good. They brought a happy courage to living and to upholding the good when it was truly at stake. They lived by the pride of their labor and never, ever wanted to be the weak link in a strong chain. They exercised self-control, self-mastery, foresight, and imagination because they knew that all four are essential to survival and success.”
“That’s what it was all about!” declares Francis.
“They were free-hearted and buoyant and came at the rush of life with relish and a joyful saddle song,” I continue. “And when they lost a fight they bounced back up with a grin, ready for more.”
“Yes!” exclaims Troy.
“These true cowboys, unshaven, with battered hats and dusty clothes, got up each morning knowing it was a new day and with the spirit to confront its adventures. And they were utterly at ease on this planet as a good place to spend a lifetime.”
Five oohs.
“You know it, Riis!” enthuses Carmen.
“Keep preaching, Brother!” yells Troy.
“Amen!” shouts Mary.
I deliver one last statement. “The cowboys who sang and joked around their chuck wagon and campfire were good men and true. Counting on their fellows, with their open-handed generosity and their steadfast loyalty, they were all help and laughter. And together they achieved the most astonishing and impossible things in the most pleasant way.” Five yesses.
“Now who’s in?” I yell. “Who aspires to be a true cowboy-gentleman and cowgirl-lady of the American West, even in these 1920s?” Six yesses. Six hollerin’, whoopin’ cheers.
Thank you, Francisco. Exactly. The Old West was quite prosocial.
Mike, as always a great piece and inspiring. You are right, the Old West is usually depicted in movies and such in violent and negative ways. Your description and narrative, as usual excellent, depict the "true" old west of pioneers who engaged in prosocial ways to survive and prosper. I am looking forward to reading your new novel. I have it on my Kindle for my long flight to Seattle tomorrow. Thanks again! Francisco.