Yearly Archives: 2011

This article was written for my weekly column in 2006 just two weeks before Chub’s and my first visit while he was in Lansing Prison. The true story of his life was still unknown to me at the time this piece went to press.

Welcome back to Part Three of “Buffalo Dale Behind The Walls…”.

Before I get to the scoop I want to lay out the time frame I will be referring to for those of you who haven’t read In Cold Blood or seen the movie. On November 15, 1959 Mr. and Mrs. Herbert Clutter, along with their son Kenyon and their daughter Nancy were found bound, gagged and shot in the head in Gardner City, KS. Robbery appeared to be the motive although only a little over $40 was missing. A massive manhunt began but with few clues it quickly proved fruitless. Then on Friday, December 30,1959 31 year old Perry Smith and 28-year-old Richard Hickock were arrested in Las Vegas for passing bad checks. After their arrest they were implicated in the robbery and murder of the Clutter family by a cellmate of Hickock’s. The gun and knife used in the murders was found at Hickock’s parents’ home and  the pair was sent back to Kansas. Truman Capote was already a well-known author when he learned about this story and it captured his imagination. It had all the elements of a great whodunit: innocent victims, hard working lawmen, colorful townspeople and two bad guys. Capote turned this story into the most famous non-fiction book of the 1960s and some would say permanently changed the style of non-fiction reporting . A stick to the facts movie starring Robert Blake quickly followed and in 2005 the Oscar winning Capote was released which focuses on Truman Capote’s experiences while writing the book . I could go on and on but space is limited so here are a few things that aren’t in any movie that Warden McKune passed along to me from the Kansas City Star. According to The Star quote “Capote and Perry Smith became lovers in the penitentiary.  I can’t prove it but they spent a lot of time up there in the cell and Capote spent a considerable amount of money bribing the guard to go around the corner. They were both homosexual and that is what happened.” KBI Agent Harold Nye as told to George Plimpston in his 1997 book Truman Capote.

Capote himself said that as the rope was slipped over his head Smith’s last words were directed to him: “Good-bye, I love you and I always have”. You won’t see this in the movies but that’s the scoop.

I may have more reports from Lansing,KS. As I pursue my visits with Chub Anderson I find it is a fascinating little corner of the world. But let’s get back to some closer soil north of Dewey where I had the chance to visit the site of Chub’s 1980s garden.

On Friday I toured the area where the largest cultivated marijuana field in Oklahoma (at the time) was discovered. The crop was estimated at 2 tons and it was growing in a field as big as a football field that is watered by a tributary of Coon Creek. In the mid 1970s I worked on this ranch myself along with a good friend, horse trainer Steve Milligan. As young boys we fed cattle and horses, fixed fence and did all the other things that need done very day on a large ranch. Chub was living there at the time and I was always told to keep my distance from his house , which I did.

Chub was a good welder and the pipe corrals and out buildings he built are still standing along with the electric pole that powered the mobile room where he lived with his family: his second wife and his son from his first marriage. Chub and his second wife were married from 1972 to 1981. I’ve visited with her on two occasions and found her quite charming. She was a local girl who fell in love with the handsome and charismatic cowboy and wanted to make a family. When I mentioned that my adventures were taking me out to her old home her first thought  was her old fruit trees and the garden she had kept. She was wondering if any of it still survived.  As the granddaughter of US Marshall Charles Johnson from Indian Territory days I could tell she is embarrassed by her involvement with this notorious case.  She had never been in any trouble before this and has led a model life afterwards.

I’ve heard the field was discovered by a young man fishing along the creek who filled his pockets with his “catch” only to get busted a few days later. He told law enforcement officials the location of the field. This boy may have been a friend of Chub’s son but whatever the case on August 6, 1980 Chub was arrested and his troubles with the law continued with another bust in Sedan in the 1980s at which  time he decided to run.

Today the land has been returned to Bermuda grass and there is not a pot plant in sight. It is hard to imagine that day in 1980 with news crews and photographers buzzing around- I wonder how many went home with full pockets themselves.

Next week:  a few little known facts about Chub including my friend Mike Proctor’s connection to the investigation. Till then I’ll see ya down the road…

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As promised, here is the second installment in my series about Chub Anderson during the time he was incarcerated at Lansing Prison

Around Town with the Original Buffalo Dale

Welcome back to Part II of “Buffalo Dale Behind The Walls…”  Before we get to “D” block I want to remind you that my paperwork hasn’t been processed yet and there’s a few more hoops to jump through before I get my second interview with Mr. Anderson. Also at this point in time I had not read In Cold Blood or seen the new movie about Truman Capote and these things will have some meaning as we continue our tour.

“D” block is where the mules used to be housed back in 1879 when the inmates started mining for coal on the 2,538-acre prison property. Today there are around thirty miles of mine tunnels under the city of Lansing from this period. This section of the prison was later converted to inmate housing with wire mesh doors and block walls but you canstill imagine the mules and coal mining prisoners who once occupied this area.

“H” block is our next stop where there is dormitory style housing and this is where Brett tells me about the Safe Harbor prison dogs. The inmates here all have a dog assigned to them from the local pound  and they train them to sit, come, and stay. They housebreak, or in this case prison break the dogs and then adopt them out. At the present time 1,250 I must say very well trained dogs have been adopted. I was very impressed with all the inmates here and if you’re interested in adopting a dog from their program here is their website: www.safeharborprisondogs.com You’ll get a great dog and what a story to tell your friends. You can also call my new friend Laura Phillippi for more info at (913) 250-0203.

My blood pressure takes an upward spike here as Brett’s radio started getting some chatter going and before you know it all the cell doors close, guards are scrambling and I am locked in. There’s been a security breach and I’m thinking about an inmate takeover but wait- I’ve been watching too many movies. It’s a false alarm and before you know it things are back to normal. Brett doesn’t blink an eye and we move on.

As we walk toward the clinic, Brett is telling me more about the notorious Hickock and Smith story and about Truman Capote. The clinic provides dental & optical care, physical therapy, x-ray and laboratory work along with mental health crisis intervention counseling and psychological evaluations of the inmates. This is very good care for men that are in a bad situation in life.

As we near the maximum security “B” block I want to mention that neither Brett nor the warden know who Chub Anderson is. To them he is just another man doing his time.

With that in mind this is where a strange thing happened.

I was following Brett into “B’ block and listening to his Hickock and Smith stories when we stopped about 20 cells down the corridor . This is where Hickock and Smith must have been held before they were hung in 1965. Over the P.A. I hear “mess call, mess call”. It is 12:30 PM and time for the prisoners in this section to be released for lunch. As I listen to the click,click,click,click of automatic locks opening, men start leaving their cells. They are putting on their clothes as they come out because its over 100 degrees in the prison – no a.c. here and its hot! As Brett continues to talk, the door to one of these cells opens and a thin older man with a shaved head steps right out in front of me. I have to take a second and a third look to believe my eyes but yes it is Chub Anderson pulling on his clothes less than 10 feet from me! I  don’t think he recognizes me and I interrupt Brett’s story to mention that this is the man I’m trying to see. Brett is also quite amazed and he reminds me that I haven’t been cleared for any conversation so I just watch Chub walk down to the cafeteria for lunch. His condition looks about the same as a couple of weeks ago as he walks away without speaking to anyone. Now the odds against my stopping at his cell at that time had to be astronomical- that out of 2,400 men I would run into Chub this way. It must have been fate. But in any event I obeyed the rules and Warden McKune appreciated it.

I am about out of space so the information that Warden McKune copied me on about Hickock and Smith and how Truman Capote was granted access to these two killers will have to wait until next week. But before I go here are a few quick facts about the Kansas State Penitentiary:

The prison was founded in 1859 and it is the largest and oldest prison in the state.

Until 1909 the prison also housed inmates from Oklahoma.

The prison has provided $1,098,680 in free community labor for many different state projects.

The ethnic breakdown of the prison population is as follows:

Caucasian                                 59%

African American                38%

Native American                    2.2%

Asian                                            .5%

The age breakdown of the prison population is:

19 and under                                .2%

20-29                                         29%

30-39                                         34%

40-49                                         25%

50-59                                           .8%

over 60                                        .3%

The average age for a prisoner is 36 years old. The oldest inmate is 86 and the youngest is 16. Mr. Anderson will soon be 65.

Next week: they lived together, killed together, were hung together and they’re buried together. Dick Hickock and Perry Smith- my behind the walls’ scoop. Also coming up 20 tons of pot northeast of Dewey and my connection to landowner Pat Scudder.

Until then, released on good behavior at 2:10 PM July 27, 2006 one Original Buffalo Dale and I’ll see ya down the road.

My project continues to move forward and for the time being it has left my hands. Hopefully I will have some exciting news to bring you before long. Meanwhile I will continue to post my weekly columns and this week I am starting a four part series that dates back to when I first met Chub and began interviewing him in 2006.

This week will be the start of a four week adventure that will take you behind the walls of the oldest penitentiary in the Kansas/Oklahoma territory- dating back to the days when Oklahoma sent their inmates to Kansas to be imprisoned.

You’ll be with notorious inmates Richard Hickock and Perry Smith and hear how Truman Capote moved around freely behind the prison walls.  You’ll also learn how life is for Chub Anderson and his strange crossing of fate with Hickock and Smith. You’ll visit the old prison cemetery which Walter Cronkite comes to every year and learn why and meet a Supreme Court Justice along the way. We’ll go on location to what was the largest cultivated marijuana crop field in the state, find out how it was discovered and interview several of the people involved including the growers. You’ll meet Rudy Briggs who was one of the first sheriff’s investigators on the scene of the Mullendore murder and follow his steps around the country in this made-for-the-big-screen real life mystery.

So fill up your canteen and come along with me to Lansing Kansas for the first installment of the Original Buffalo Dale Behind The Walls.

It’s July 27, 2006 and we’re being searched by the first of many guards we’ll face on entry.No phones or smoking materials are allowed and naturally no guns, knives or weapons of any type. And no cash over $50 can be taken into the prison. Money is not needed inside these confines and you will be searched coming out also. The thought is that visitors might be laundering money for the inmates.

After being processed I am issued a badge to be worn at all times, my hand is stamped with invisible ink and my license is returned to me to be kept handy throughout my visit. I am told to take a seat in the waiting area where I meet two men who are being released that morning and are waiting for a bus that will take them to anyplace they choose in Kansas. I don’t have to wait long but I have time to visit with one of the two inmates who told me about the bus ticket, the $100 “gate money” every inmate receives when released and the games you have to play to survive behind the walls. The anxiety of this young man is clearly visible and he says that just waiting for the bus to arrive is the worst. He just wants to taste his freedom. I wish him well as Brett Petersen, Executive Officer to the warden arrives and my journey inside Lansing Correctional Facility begins.

Our first steel door opened and my driver’s license was required to proceed. Then we walked down a long hallway to a set of steel bars where my hand was swiped under an infrared blue light. Then I moved through another set of steel gates where my ID badge was scanned. Along the way I’m getting to know Brett and asking him what now that I look back seem like some pretty dumb questions because after this last gate I’m standing in an island like place where they have their own system of rules that you live by.  The thought of someone coming up behind you is ever constant as you look at the inmates who are moving around freely, going about their business. It takes some getting used to but as we head to the industrial area Brett’s manner is so professional that my fears drift off and before long my blood pressure goes back down and I am peppering Brett with questions again.

Our first stop is the toy shop where some of the finest woodworking I’ve ever seen is done, creating toys for not-for-profit and government fund raising events and for distribution to underprivileged children. Next door is a laser design shop where men are doing some extraordinary work making signs and other products.  Then comes the paint and metal working shop where all the Kansas State highway signs are made and the paint is produced for the highways and school buses. There is also an embroidery shop which makes all the hats for the NCAA, the NFL, major league baseball teams and companies such as Gear and Sprint. In addition there are several other smaller shops that make goods of various kinds, all with inmate labor. It is quite fascinating and keeping these men busy I believe is the reason this area seems so tranquil. There are several private companies that work inside the walls and supply “civilian” crew bosses who teach the inmates how to operate the machinery and provide them with a trade if they don’t have one..

At any given time there are 500-600 men working in the industrial division on three 8 hour shifts- 24 hours a day if needed. They are paid minimum prevailing wage to start and 25% goes back to the penitentiary for room and board. 10% is put into mandatory savings, a small amount is paid into each inmates commissary account and the balance is paid into a victims’ restitution fund.

Next we go into the C unit where disruptive inmates are housed in segregated cells to maintain the security of the prison. You don’t want to go here and my impression is that you’d better be tough if you’re working in this area. My hat goes off to the guards securing these men. On average a guard works about three years before deciding either to leave or make this their career. If they stay they begin to work their way up the chain of command as warden Dave McKune and Brett Petersen have done- two fine dedicated men. While I’m talking about the guards- there are 463 working three shifts here watching over the 2,400 inmates in residence. This works out to about  154 guards on each shift. My blood pressure is going up again! I’d better take a break. Next week “D” block, “H” block and the Safe Harbor prison Adopt-A-Dog program that Brett is involved with. It’s a great story. Also coming up- coal mining inmates, the clinic, maximum security “B” block and the Chub Anderson-Truman Capote connection. Until then official guest #938 will be seeing ya down the road…..

Very little information has been given to the general public about Chub Anderson’s death.  After a gravesite service attended by several dozen friends from  his past Chub was quietly buried in a small cemetery. Many believe that he took the truth about who really killed E.C. Mullendore to the grave with him. The following story which ran in the Bartlesville Examiner Enterprise on May 4, 2011 includes a few details about his final resting place.

Down The Road with the Original Buffalo Dale

Welcome back.  Those of you who have been following my column for the past six years will have read about trips to far off places, great fundraisers and dozens of interesting people. Stars like Tom Selleck and Ernest Bourgnine and local leaders like Bill Creel and Virgil Gaede have been equally interesting to me and I hope to my readers. I’ve also covered the unusual in my investigation of mutilated calves in New Mexico and interviews with a team of paranormal investigators from Salt Lake City.

With all that said, this week’s interview with professional C.S.I. investigator Gerry (for security I have to withhold his last name) who was in town on business last week, may top them all.

This “Cemetery Search Investigator” is for real. From the famous to family members, Gerry has performed searches for them all, helped with data provided by his wife Connie. Over the years, Gerry has carved a name for himself in this specific and little known field. As with all investigators, confidentiality  is important in this man’s business and so the name of who he was working locally will have to remain a secret for now, sorry!

He did tell me that the famous outlaw Henry Starr is buried in the Dewey cemetery and also mentioned that he had been once been requested to locate the grave of Frank Phillips who is buried on the grounds of his beloved Woolaroc.

Another more recent case involved finding the final resting place of the outlaw Queen Belle Starr. It has been documented that Belle was born on February 5, 1845 and that she married for the first time at eighteen. Soon after she began a lawless life, running with the Jesse James and Cole Younger gangs. She died on February 3, 1889 and Gerry found out that she was killed by a shotgun blast to her back. Her murder remains unsolved but his client wanted to know where she was buried.

Dozens of interviews and miles of hiking chasing blind leads eventually brought him to Eufaula Dam. Gerry found Belle’s cabin located on what was known in those days as “Younger’s Bend” on the Canadian River. This was a well known hangout of the Younger gang in the 1880s and is near the present day town of Porum, Oklahoma.

It was difficult to find the cabin in the heavily wooded area about a mile below the dam but once he did, the rest was easy. Just 40 feet in front of the still standing rock foundation lies a small marker where Belle was shot and then buried, ending the life of one of the most colorful figures in Oklahoma history.

Jerry also told me about Arthur “Pretty Boy” Floyd who he located in Akins Cemetary near Sallisaw, Oklahoma. Pretty Boy, who was listed on the FBI’s Most Wanted list, was a bank robber and was eventually gunned down in a shootout with federal agents near Liverpool, Oklahoma.

Chub Anderson is another person whose grave he has been asked to identify and he stated that he is buried in a small cemetary west of Coffeyville, Kansas.

People have various reasons for hiring Gerry to seek out these final resting places and his record book of names and places is a document that I think should be preserved for future historians.

Till next time, I’ll see ya down the road….

Rita Thurman Barnes wrote this appreciation of the late funeral director Arnold Moore which appeared in the Bartlesville Examiner Enterprise on Sunday April 24^th. The Arnold Moore Funeral Home played a significant role in the story I have been writing and she has given permission to post his  profile. Anyone who has watched the videos of the conversation between Chub and old Sheriff Wayman on this website might remember the name Arnold Moore.

I’ve been thinking about Arnold a lot lately. Thinking about him when I pass his lovely old business there on Johnstone at Adams Boulevard and thinking about how long I should have waited to write my memories of him after his passing. And I wrote the story and then lost it and had to write it again. I think Arnold would have gotten a good chuckle out of it because he liked to read my stories; he told me so.  I miss him.

I miss knowing he’s there. We all knew he wasn’t getting any younger but he was a literal institution unto himself in our hometown. Anyone who had lived here a good portion of their life had their own Arnold Moore memories and those of us whose family members grew up with him have very special memories indeed.

He knew everyone and he knew their comings and goings, their kith and kin and the joke around town as I was growing up was that he always knew the size casket you would need. The joke never really was funny and it certainly isn’t now but humor is one of the ways people deal with those who see to the end of the life needs and necessities that Arnold did for way over 50 years.

And he was a handsome man right to the end; strong and well-groomed and well-informed on top of it all. I always thought he looked a bit like Omar Sharif. He had that sturdy dependable look about him all the years I remember him and never seemed to really age up until about the time of Richard Kane’s funeral. That’s the first hint that I had that Arnold might indeed be mortal after all when he took a fall outside the church.

Knowing of him since I was just a kid, he always seemed old to me but then when you’re a kid everyone seems old. He finally got to that stage, as I grew up and older myself, when he just seemed ageless with his full head of beautifully coifed white hair and the uniform suit and tie with never a hint of lint anywhere to be seen.

I know there always have been other funeral homes in Bartlesville but when someone died and you got the news before the paper got to your house you always called to confirm if the service would be at Arnold Moore’s. I hesitate to guess how many funerals his business conducted throughout the years but it had to literally be thousands upon thousands.

And the money spent on laminating photos of all types that appeared in the newspaper had to have cost a fortune over time. Every time I was in the paper for any reason, eventually, along came a laminated copy of it and that goes back to my childhood days.  When my kids made the honor roll or earned a scout award or went with their class to chop down a Christmas tree, if it made it into the paper, Arnold laminated it. And it’s these little every day things about him and the services he provided the town which we all we took for granted.

Cathy Benz Sherran shared, When my mother died, we had many family members from out of town after the funeral. We made a buffet out of all the food and as the dishes piled up, Arnold located one of my mother’s aprons, tied it on, followed me into the kitchen and took over the dishwashing, all the while regaling me with intricate family relationships, weaving together families from Bartlesville, Nowata, Tulsa, Borger, Texas, and beyond. His memory for names and personal detail was encyclopedic!”

Rick Lee recalled so many stories of Arnold. He has known my family since time began. He buried my dad’s dad in 1955. He quit boxing, so he told, because my Grandpa Floyd hit him so fast and hard. He always called my mom ‘Pretty Lady.’ When I worked at Doenges I worked on most all his cars both personal and for the funeral home so much that when I attended funerals he always asked me if I wanted to drive. He could remember everyone’s name somehow and never failed to come look me up when he came in Doenges. I don’t think I have ever met anyone who paid such close attention to detail.

Joe Dillsaver commented He grew up with my uncle, Merle Ibach. Apparently he was raised by a single mother. According to Uncle Merle, Arnold had a wagon and when someone had a dog or cat die he would go pick it up and bury it. Homer Stanton, one of his morticians and one of my basketball coaches said he and Arnold’s handy man used to hide in the caskets so Arnold couldn’t find them.

Cindy Wilson Neidig said, What wonderful memories from so many. Arnold did both my grandparents funerals and Daddy’s last year. Arnold attended every funeral. He was at Daddy’s and then Arnold passed away just a couple of days after Daddy’s funeral.

And the neatest story I heard was from Sandy Olson Haberly who said that when she was a little girl, once in a while her family would go to the old Zesto for an ice cream treat and that, periodically, Arnold would be there “visiting” all the cars and would buy ice cream for everyone.

I guess there will always be people in our lives we will never forget and Arnold Moore, for Bartlesville, is one of those people. Tell me you don’t see his face in your mind’s eye every time you drive down Johnstone and stop at the Adams stoplight. I knew I wasn’t the only one.

Carpe Diem and thanks for everything, Arnold.