Ushers Wild West Weekend
Smile When You Learn That,
Pardner
In Iowa, Reenactors Aim for a Fun, Less Sanitized View of
the Old West
CEDAR RAPIDS, Iowa
The bank robber was caught red-handed, and the posse surrounding the jail was in no mood for negotiating. "Get a rope!" shouted one man with a long rifle as the accused proclaimed his innocence. But there would be no trial, and no reprieve.
With women and children gathered around, the man was hoisted onto a horse, a newly tied noose placed around his neck, and then the horse was sent scurrying away. He swung until he was lifeless.
"This is frontier justice," one of his executioners told the assembled crowd. "We don't need no judge and no jury."
This also was a re-creation of life in the Old West, where the living was hard and the justice was harsh and swift. Children were quickly told not to try that at home and shown how the "movie magic" worked.
The public hanging was among the many history lessons, including famous gun battles by the Dalton Gang, Doc Holliday and Wild Bill Hickok, acted out for the families who participated in the Wild West Weekend at Ushers Ferry Historic Village, a 10-acre living-history museum here.
The town of 30 buildings has a brick bank, a church, a hotel, jail, newspaper and general store -- some original and some built to look old -- and is meant to appear as though it were an Iowa railroad town between 1890 and 1910. Each building has hands-on activities for visitors. Special events that focus on the West and the Civil War are used to entice larger crowds to learn about the past.
"We like to let history sneak up on people," said Vicki Hughes, the park's director for 16 years. "We plan a wide variety of events and then let people walk through the houses to teach them what life was like at the turn of the century."
The Wild West event, which ended yesterday, enchants children with its action-packed brawls and shootings, with actors flying through the air and "dying" in the streets. Robin and Marnie Levens, of Cedar Rapids, brought their family out for the second year. The Levenses' 9-year-old nephew, McKenzie, of suburban Chicago, had dual holsters with toy pistols on a belt around his waist. The couple's son, 3-year-old Mitchell, was busy accepting the challenge of another youngster who pointed his toy gun and yelled, "Hey, boy, I'm gonna shoot you."
"No, don't shoot yet," Mitchell responded, trying to get his toy gun loaded. "I'm not ready."
Soon the boys were shooting and shouting at each other, reliving the gunfights they had seen only a few moments earlier. Meanwhile, Jack, 1, was sampling dirt and washing it down with his bottle. "It's fun for the adults and it's fun for the kids," Robin Levens said. "It's a family atmosphere."
That's the reason that Clint "Mad Dog" Beach became involved in history reenactments, to entertain people and fire them up about history.
"I went to college for theater and had a love of history," said Beach, of Kingston, Ill. "Unfortunately I was sleeping in the back of history class until the teacher brought in something [Old West memorabilia] he was really interested in. . . . What we're trying to do is teach history that is not necessarily in the books."
Like all of the other actors, Beach has a day job. He's a lineman for a utility company. But on several weekends each year, he's one of seven core members of the Kishwaukee Valley Vigilance Committee, a group of friends who host a similar living-history event in Illinois. They strive to show events as they happened, as opposed to the sanitized way that Hollywood portrays the Old West, with gun battles at high noon and good guys against bad guys.
"Everything we wear is authentic or passable," he said, decked out in wool jacket, vest, pants and leather holsters for his vintage pistols. "It can be expensive."
When Beach and other reenactors can't find exactly what they need from a second-hand store, they sometimes go to Jim Boeke, who has been manufacturing replica clothing, of the period from 1870 to the turn of the century, for almost three decades. He and his wife have five employees and do about $500,000 a year in business with individuals and theme parks such as Disneyland and Universal Studios, he said.
Eyeing his own attire, Boeke said he would have been looked down upon for what he was wearing. To beat the heat, he had taken off his jacket and vest. His suspenders were showing.
"A gentleman usually wore a white shirt, a vest and a coat," said Boeke. "If they didn't, they were not properly dressed. Of course, there were lowlifes who could wear whatever they wanted to."
Special education teacher Brian Pittman, a member of the Willi Territory Rough Riders, would certainly qualify as a lowlife this weekend, having participated in any number of shootings and having failed twice in robbing the town bank. His group draws its members from Illinois, Iowa and Wisconsin. They've been together since 1995, and include construction workers, lawyers and doctors. Many also participate in Civil War reenactments and various shooting competitions associated with the Old West.
"I've been a teacher since 1996," Pittman said. "All of this melds into that very well. I speak to history classes and do demonstrations. Here, you get to pet the horses, smell the smells and see the colors."
But even the most avid contend that at the very heart of it is having fun, getting in bar fights, shooting up the town, going to jail and then getting up and doing it all over again, said Marshall Buck, an auto parts dealer in Davenport, Iowa.
"Where else can you dress up and play cowboys like you were a kid and nobody calls you a fool?" asked Buck, as he lounged in front of the Ushers Ferry jail. "I have fun dressing up."
© 2002 The Washington Post Company