Author: Grumpy
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Texas Rangers Hold Off a Charge
Do your family vacation plans this summer include a visit to Southern California? Maybe you’re the frugal type and worry that a day at Disneyland will break the budget. Fear not: There’s a place just up the freeway where the admission is free, but you can still experience Los Angeles’s version of Fantasyland.
If you’re willing to pay the exorbitant cost of parking in Downtown Los Angeles, if you don’t mind the risk of having your luggage looted from your car, if you’re unbothered by the prospect of walking among and stepping over the drug-addicted vagrants milling about and lying unconscious on the sidewalks, then pack up the kids and bring them to L.A. City Hall, where the members of the city council live in a make-believe world far beyond anything Walt Disney ever imagined.
Last Wednesday, the council unanimously approved a motion instructing the Los Angeles police commission to establish policies that would “prohibit pretextual stops of motorists and cyclists” by LAPD officers.
The members of the council hold views that represent the broad range of political thought in L.A., which is to say, from left to far left to far, far left, and Wednesday’s vote reflects the magical thinking, sadly common among such people, that crime statistics among ethnic groups should mirror each group’s share of the population. The burden of pretext stops, they say, falls most heavily on black and brown residents, and these disparities simply cannot be tolerated.
The U.S. Supreme Court, in Whren v. United States (1996), held that pretextual stops are lawful, and my own experience as an LAPD officer has shown how valuable they can be in detecting and curtailing crime. All across the country, the prisons are full of people whose path to the penitentiary began with a broken taillight or an expired car registration.
No matter, says the L.A. city council. Pretextual stops make some of our constituents feel put upon and, therefore, must be stopped. When it comes to the delicate sensibilities of our black and brown brethren, who cares what the Supreme Court says? We, the enlightened members of this exalted council, know better.
Yes, the council members are free to entertain the fantasy that crime statistics are not racially skewed, but LAPD officers, like police officers everywhere, must operate in the real world, where the simple mathematics of murder tell us that, although black people comprise just 8% of the city’s population, in 2024, they made up 39% of homicide arrests.
Hispanics are 48% of L.A.’s population and made up half of the city’s homicide arrests that year, while non-Hispanic whites, with 16% of the population, made up 9% of homicide arrests. In other words, any random black person in Los Angeles is 9 times more likely to be a killer than any random white person.
Consider also the ethnic geography and raw numbers of crime across the city. In the largely white and affluent West L.A. Division, for example, there had been two murders, 34 robberies, and 64 aggravated assaults this year as of May 2. Across town in the predominantly Hispanic and black 77th Street Division, the same period saw 11 homicides, 227 robberies, and 496 aggravated assaults.
And yet, the utopians of the L.A. city council would have the LAPD patrolling with a blind eye to these glaring differences. Given that the vast majority of murders in Los Angeles and elsewhere are intra-racial, the ones who would suffer most from such a myopic policy are the very minority groups the council members imagine themselves to be protecting.
The LAPD investigated 230 murders in 2025, 54 fewer than in 2024. In 1992, at the height of the gang and drug wars that plagued the city, the number was a horrifying 1,092. It was creative, proactive police work over the years that brought about this change, including the use of pretextual stops when circumstances warranted.
In voting to deny the LAPD the use of this valuable and perfectly legal tool, the L.A. city council is showing a willingness to take a step toward the bad old days. How many lives will be lost because of it?
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Just uber cool!
Cover of Gene Brown’s fine book!
Elmer Keith’s shooting exploits were legendary. While most students of Keith are true believers of his sixgun prowess, some consider him to be full of bull $hit. How could a man be so beloved, be the impetus of the Pre-64 Winchester Model 70 rifle, the .338 Winchester Magnum, as well as the .44 and .41 Magnum cartridges, to name a few, and still be considered full of horse hooey by some?
Elmer and Mike Garner, Gene Brown’s buddy.
Then there’s the debatable 600-yard mule deer shot — with a 6.5-inch .44 Mag, killing five jackrabbits with one shot at 100 yards, while on a full run, and finally, shooting flying fish, while in mid arc near Catalina Island, with his 4-inch .44 Magnum! I’ve discussed the two previous incidents in earlier articles; here, I’ll discuss the flying fish incident. I don’t see what the big deal is. If Elmer says he did it, it happened!
Elmer and Tommy Bish at the Great Western Gun Show!
This story starts with two young Elmer Keith fans who met Keith at the Kalispell Outlaw Inn, where the Montana Weapons Collectors held their annual late winter gun show. A discussion about the show continued back in Keith’s room. Firing up a cigar and tipping back his famous Stetson, the topic shifted to gun shows in general. Which shows were the best and which ones weren’t worth your time?
The Great Western Gun Show came up, and his young fans enthusiastically described the show in detail. Keith asked his new young friends, “If you’re going down to the show this year, I’d like to tag along.” The starstruck fans were gobsmacked between the eyes! They couldn’t believe their good fortune — a road trip with Elmer Keith — all the way from Salmon, Idaho, where Elmer lived, to Los Angeles, California!
Wax figure of Elmer at his “office” at the Elmer Keith museum in Boise, Id., at the Cabela’s.
Photo by Jeff “Tank” Hoover.
The Show
Anyone’s who’s ever attended this huge and colorful three-day event will testify this is not your standard, generic “guns on the table” kind of show. This is the kind of show that can only happen in Southern California. In addition to the several thousand guns and accompanying items, the entertainment value is both shocking and interesting.
It’s a mix of a large motion-picture set where the movie is a cowboy-and-Indian war, and a military and western museum, with living figures.
Coming at you and around you from all sides are men and women in full regalia, ranging from uniforms simulating the American Revolution, Civil War, with both North and South sides represented, Spanish American War, with soldiers sporting 30/40 Krag rifles, World War I Doughboys carrying Lee Enfield’s and Webleys and the many other different persuasions of World War II in an authentic array.
Some of Elmer’s trophies at the office reproduction at Cabela’s.
Picking Elmer Up
One of the young fans describes what it was like to visit Keith’s home in Salmon, Idaho, to pick him up. “It began with a touching front porch scene at the home of Elmer and his wife.
There, our traveling companion was saying goodbye to Lorraine. Romance writers would have deemed it a tender and touching scene. There stood the grizzled, hard, seen it all old cowboy in sharp, formal western attire. In front of him was a loving wife who repeatedly adjusted the suit lapels. This between a lot of not unwarm kissing, hugging and gazing into each other’s eyes.”
“Gently, she advised him to be careful. Take care of yourself. It looked as if we were dealing with a pair of love-struck teenagers and not an old married couple that been teamed up for some 56 years.”
“These two lovebirds, as we drove away, waved until they could no longer see each other. Mike was smiling broadly as we went east down the hill into Salmon. From there, the road would take us onto Highway 93, which headed through Southern Idaho.”
Not long into the drive south in his 1975 Cadillac Coupe de Ville, the subject of long-range and trick shooting came up. The fan recalls Elmer’s words, “We were fishing off the coast of California over around Catalina Island sometime in the late 1950s,” he recalled as if it was a week ago.
“There was a boatload of us, and some of the boys ribbed me about just what a man could do with a .44 Magnum pistol if he put his mind to it. I had gotten off a few rounds at sharks, which didn’t make much of an impression on this lot.”
“One of them remarked that I probably figured I could knock down a flying fish on the wing if I felt like it.”
“Well,” I said back, “I could probably do that.”
“Whaat?! Excuse me. Drop a flying fish with a pistol?”
More trophies.
Doubt & Disappointment
The young fan stated, “From somewhere deep down in my innermost reaches, a pause button came on. I glanced in the rearview mirror where friend Mike had the same, “What is this (expletive deleted) nonsense,” doubting expression that I did. “Well, maybe a little too much Wild Turkey for our old buddy today? Elmer looked straight ahead, out over the desert landscape passing by, missing our suspicious countenances and the terrible ensuing let down we both felt.”
“He continued with this absurdity that might have fooled the newly disembarked pickle boat crowd.
“Well,” he slowly drawled, “I unleashed the Smith and Wesson, leaned back against something, I don’t exactly remember what, put the pistol between my knees and took a few shots out over the water to sort of get the range and feel of it.
“He seemed to be lost in thought for a few seconds and then continued, “The first one I dropped was out about 50 yards. Got him right in the arc. The next two were right around 60 yards. I could have gotten more, but figured the point had been made.
It was difficult shooting, but I did do it.” “Also,” he added, “I don’t like to take fish or game unless I use it for food.” A heavy silence enveloped the car’s interior portion. A silence so heavy and dead, I reckoned we could be had on a murder one rap. Things got awfully quiet for a while. Could it be that the skeptics were right? The rest of us believers had been hustled?”
“Again, glancing into the rearview mirror, I saw Mike slowly shaking his head in a frown of disbelief. A touch of doubt on our part tainted stories that ensued during the rest of the journey. Well, how else would you feel after hearing some comic book yarn like that? A great, knowledgeable old guy maybe, but it was time to just chalk up his shooting stories as clever works of fiction.
“Admittedly, there still were some intriguing accounts, especially the one about his British Columbia experience that got him placed on a 1928 cover of the American Rifleman magazine (more about that later), the African lion hunts and loads of talk on ultimate rifles, shotguns and handguns.”
Elmer’s Outstanding American Handgunner Trophy and bronze sculpture of him in the museum.
The Show
The fan goes on to describe how they were treated like royalty as they were escorted through the fairgrounds to the main building by a pair of L.A. County Sheriffs, a security guard and a California Highway Patrolman, once they realized who their VIP passenger was. As they walked through the large east entrance door (after being assigned a special parking spot by security) people recognized Elmer by his big cowboy hat, waving and yelling his name.
Elmer was as human as the rest of us. He loved this kind of attention from fellow gun buffs. The waves and smiles from admirers were heartily returned.
Credible Conclusion
While they were being escorted to the Petersen table, somebody far off in the milling crowd could be heard yelling rather loudly, “Elmer!” “Hey, Elmer.” “Elmer, over here.”
Turning, they saw a man in a western hat and cowboy clothes coming hurriedly in their direction. Right off, they recognized Tommy Bish, a well-known writer on firearms and do-it-yourself gunsmithing.
There was a round of handshaking and backslapping between Keith and Bish. “How ya’ been?” “Whadda’ ya’ been doing? “Long time, no see!” Grinning broadly, Tommy addressed Elmer.
“Elmer, it is really good to see you. You know what happened? Just last night, a bunch of us were talking. I told them about how you took down those flying fish off Catalina Island with that pistol a few years back.” Elmer nodded yes, as both young fans were now smiling after Bish substantiated Elmer’s account of shooting flying fish!
We learned later that Bish had not seen or spoken with Elmer for several years. There was no way in the world a man of his or Elmer’s caliber would have cooked up some phony story about Elmer and the ocean shooting action.
By the Book
Most of my information and quotes come from Gene Brown’s book, Elmer Keith, The Other Side of a Western Legend available here. Brown discusses the trials and tribulations of collecting all of Keith’s books, before the advent of the internet, visiting Keith over the years and how he would even visit him in the nursing home after his stroke. For any true Keith fan, a warmly written, wonderful book giving you a peek into the life of the dean of all gun writers.
