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Dragging Wyatt Earp: A Personal History of Dodge City, by Robert Rebein
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In Dragging Wyatt Earp essayist Robert Rebein explores what it means to grow up in, leave, and ultimately return to the iconic Western town of Dodge City, Kansas. In chapters ranging from memoir to reportage to revisionist history, Rebein contrasts his hometown’s Old West heritage with a New West reality that includes salvage yards, beefpacking plants, and bored teenagers cruising up and down Wyatt Earp Boulevard.
Along the way, Rebein covers a vast expanse of place and time and revisits a number of Western myths, including those surrounding Francisco Vasquez de Coronado, the Cheyenne chief Black Kettle, George Armstrong Custer, and of course Wyatt Earp himself. Rebein rides a bronc in a rodeo, spends a day as a pen rider at a local feedlot, and attempts to “buck the tiger” at Dodge City’s new Boot Hill Casino and Resort.
Funny and incisive, Dragging Wyatt Earp is an exciting new entry in what is sometimes called the nonfiction of place. It is a must- read for anyone interested in Western history, contemporary memoir, or the collision of Old and New West on the High Plains of Kansas.
- Sales Rank: #715041 in eBooks
- Published on: 2013-02-13
- Released on: 2013-02-13
- Format: Kindle eBook
From Booklist
Rebein was born in 1964 in Dodge City, Kansas. His gritty parents raised seven sons: a contractor, a day-trader, four lawyers, and an English professor. This book’s good Dodge City history includes clarifying details on Wyatt Earp: a blonde, teetotaling, Republican deputy, who often pistol-whipped—but rarely shot—the mainly Rebel cowpokes of Dodge. The Wyatt Earp of the title, however, is a boulevard. “Dragging” means to cruise. This memoir feels desperate for weighty experiences or quirky characters to fill pages, and the essay format intensifies that lack of cohesion. We find scattered nuggets of interest, a carrying page, or even a decent chapter. Auto “body men” are like hairdressers that bounce from salon to salon. Religious connection often is less about faith than about not questioning origins. As he horsebacks a corporate cattle feedlot, we do empathize with a rural-raised professor who struggles to see the wrong his vegan colleagues would. Even the most ordinary life can rivet, but this diluted book lacks the insight, perspective, or other trick to pull us totally in. --Dane Carr
Review
"In many ways, [Rebein's] experience mirrors that of a whole generation who grew up in rural places knowing that they would leave. And then they return as visitors to a place where they can't stay, but can't stay away from."
- Rex Buchanan, Kansas Public Radio
"Rebein's memoir gives us a chance to think about our own relationship with our own hometown, recall our own stories, our own dreams. The book helps us remember the things we treasured in our town, what we took away from that place, and what we left behind."
- Cheryl Unruh, Emporia Gazette
"[The book's] strength lies in Rebein's easy way of mixing personal tales and history. His portraits of western icons such as Custer, Coronado, and Earp are just as vivid as his portrayal of the colorful characters who prowled the salvage yard."
- Steven Hill, Kansas Alumni Magazine
"The book is at its finest in its final section, which deals with a cowboy's favorite subject: horses. Here Rebein unpacks his own and his family's relationship to the equine, discusses the history of the horse and its uncanny bond to humans, and gives a candid account of his own attempts at cowboying after spending much of his adult life in air-conditioned universities."
- Emma Faesi, NUVO
"Rebein evocatively reconstructs what it was like growing up in Dodge in the 1970s and '80s as the farming and ranching economy soured. The result is a riveting meditation not just on the Old West versus the New West but on how to treat the past with reverence while refusing to become trapped by it."
- Nick Gillespie, Reason.com
“For a young Rebein, the world of wrecked cars became a wonderland, and he writes lyrically of the things that turned up in them, from porn to lighters to photographs to ammunition. . . . A minor but well-crafted work, and an all-too rare glimpse of daily life in rural America.”
— Kirkus Reviews
"'We'd been raised for export,' Rebein notes of his Dodge City upbringing. Yet this expatriate warmly merges his personal history with Dodge's history and culture to find his own place under the stars of the Great Plains of Western Kansas."
— Thomas Fox Averill, author of Rode
"Charming, searching, and haunting all at once, this book makes me nostalgic for my own handful of years on the Great Plains."
— Bob Cowser, Jr., author of Green Fields
“Language and stories are two vital aspects of memoir. Dragging Wyatt Earp excels on both counts…. Rebein’s memoir gives us a chance to think about our own relationship with our own hometown, recall our own stories, our own dreams. The book helps us remember the things we treasured in our town, what we took away from that place and what we left behind.”
— Emporia Gazette
“Charming, searching, and haunting all at once, this book makes me nostalgic for my own handful of years on the Great Plains.”
— Bob Cowser, Jr., author of Green Fields
“‘We'd been raised for export,’ Rebein notes of his Dodge City upbringing. Yet this expatriate warmly merges his personal history with Dodge's history and culture to find his own place under the stars of the Great Plains of Western Kansas.”
— Thomas Fox Averill, author of rode
From the Author
Eudora Welty used to say that fiction writing depended for its very life on place. "Every story would be another story, and unrecognizable as art, if it took up its characters and plot and happened somewhere else," she wrote in her essay "Place in Fiction." Flannery O'Connor took the notion a step further in her essay "The Catholic Novelist in the Protestant South," where she argued that fiction writers "cannot proceed at all" if they cut themselves off "from the sights and sounds" that have "developed a life" in their senses. For Welty and O'Connor, place was not just critical or important; it was inescapable.
A similar claim can be made by contemporary writers of creative nonfiction, particularly those whose work is set in far-flung, highly mythologized regions like the American West. For these writers-and I count myself among them-writing about place, and getting place right, is the beginning and the end of everything we do. We must constantly ask ourselves, What is the true texture and meaning of this place I claim as my subject? How can I convey that meaning in all its complexity, without resort to stereotype and cliche? How do I confront the myth of this place, while at the same time registering its pungent reality?
It's an old problem. When Pedro de Castaneda, the great chronicler of the Coronado expedition, first ventured into Southwest Kansas in 1541 and tried to describe what he encountered there, he had to confront not only European ignorance of North American flora and fauna (how to describe a buffalo to someone who has never seen one?) but also the legend of the Seven Cities of Antillia, a stubbornly persistent myth according to which the interior of North America was understood to be a land of glittering cities awash in gold. Three centuries later, when George Armstrong Custer arrived in Kansas with the newly formed 7th Cavalry, he confronted an entirely different myth, that of the so-called Great American Desert, according to which the entire plains region was said to be a wasteland incapable of supporting human life. In taking on these myths, Castaneda and Custer faced the difficult task of replacing imaginative fancy with the unvarnished facts of witnessed and lived experience.
Contemporary Western writers confront essentially the same challenge. No sooner do I write the words Dodge City, Kansas (as I do too many times to count in Dragging Wyatt Earp) than I must begin the work of hacking through all the myths and misconceptions that have grown up around the place. Dodge City: Miss Kitty or Marshal Matt Dillon, gunfighters squaring off at high noon ... Kansas: dull and flat, wheat country, The Wizard of Oz ... Before I lay down another word about my actual subject, I must first set the record straight about the place where the story is set. If I fail in this, my reader might imagine everything taking place on the set of Gunsmoke instead of in the real Dodge City, a place of rolling hills and red brick streets and acrid odors blown in from the stockyards and the slaughterhouses east of town.
This moment of pause, this alertness to the fact that for me place will always be my foremost responsibility as a writer--all of this comes as both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, I start every writing day with an immediate sense of calling and purpose: to put the reader into direct contact with my Dodge City, not the Dodge of legend and myth. On the other hand, the very act of doing this, day after day, can come to seem like a Sisyphean task: no matter how many times I roll the boulder of myth to the top of the proverbial hill, I know it will always roll back down of its own accord. Literature is strong, but legend is stronger--at least in the short term.
I vividly recall when the primacy of place in my work first became clear to me. I was sitting at my desk in Indianapolis, trying to write an essay about Wyatt Earp, the nineteenth century lawman whose name is synonymous with the legend of Dodge City. Each time I tried to say something about the real Wyatt Earp, a glorified bouncer who worked mostly at night, collecting a $2 bonus for every drunk he hauled to the city jail without firing his weapon, I kept running up against the Earp of legend and myth, that paragon of justice who faced down bad guys on a dusty street at high noon. At times, I even caught myself grabbing hold of the existing myth and running with it-an exhilarating but ultimately pointless exercise. Frustrated, I stepped away from the essay-in-progress and retreated to the pages of my notebook, where I posed for myself the following question: Where in all of this was my Wyatt Earp?
As soon as I put the question this way, I knew where to go for my answer. Indeed, I knew the answer itself. As I write in Dragging Wyatt Earp, for the generation of teens I grew up with in the Cowboy Capital circa 1980, Wyatt Earp was not a person but a place, a mile-long ribbon of asphalt that stretched from Boot Hill on the east to the Dodge House on the west, containing in that brief space all of our teeming and awkward adolescence, our collective longings and flirtations and our often ridiculous mistakes, few of which we had to pay for in any meaningful way.
Ironically, understanding this helped me to find meaning not only in a youth spent cruising Wyatt Earp Boulevard, but also in the time Wyatt Earp spent in the same place. After all, didn't his job as a cow town cop entail riding herd on a group of bored, volatile teenagers-the legendary Texas cowboys of old? And wasn't the difference between Earp's famously brutal methods (whacking cowboys across the skull with the barrel of his six shooter) and the kid gloves employed by the policemen of my day ("Time for you to head home, son, and no detours, you hear?") one more illustration of the extent to which the town itself had changed, transformed by time and circumstance from a byword for lawlessness and iniquity (so-called "Wickedest Little City in American," "The Bibulous Babylon of the Frontier," etc.) to something far more boring and tame, and yet, for all that, still interesting, still worthy of attention and commentary? Yes, of course. How could it be otherwise?
For the Western writer of place, who confronts myth at every turn on the often twisty road to the truth, connections like this one simply come with the territory.
Most helpful customer reviews
5 of 5 people found the following review helpful.
Highly recommended--Couldn't put it down
By Kristen F. Ball
What a well-written, insightful account of growing up in a small midwestern town full of history and mischief that so many of us can either identify with or envy. The author takes us along in his journey of finding his place within his family, his school, and his hometown and the discoveries he continues to make in this quest. He has obviously done a tremendous amount of research and corrects many embellished stories about historical figures of the old west including Wyatt Earp and Custer.
A delightful read, especially for history buffs of all ages.
3 of 3 people found the following review helpful.
A TRUCKLOAD OF LAUGHTER AND TEARS
By tom
Those who have not witnessed the culture from which this book grows will want to read it twice. So will those of us who have lived some of it. There may be other cultures with such extremes of beauty and harshness, adversity and joy, but I can't think of any. Many of the people who grew on this land bring us lessons in stoicism, persistence, values-setting, toughness, humor and love. We learn some of it from Robert Rebein. It is a helluva book. I want to get back there now and meet some of them again.
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
Man Meets City
By B. Furuness
In this book of engaging essays, Rebein deftly weaves the personal with the historical. Along with getting a sense of what it's like to grow up on the Plains (and to leave, and feel the pull to return), I learned a lot of Real Stuff about Dodge City, horses, feedlots, and much more. None of the essays feel didactic, though. They're all smart without being ponderous, wondering but not wandering, and often funny but never fluffy. I loved this book, and hope to see another book of essays from this writer.
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