Kindred Spirits

Charles Goodnight and His Biographer J. Evetts Haley

Edited by J.P. “Pat” McDaniel

On a small rise in the remote Panhandle landscape outside of Amarillo sits a two- story wooden home, not at all spectacular to behold. But this is not just any home. This is the prairie residence of Charles and Mary Ann Goodnight—and Texas history happened here. A friendship forged from respect, mutual interests, and a shared sense of the importance of preserving the historical record, led author J. Evetts Haley and the trailblazing Goodnight to sit down inside of this house and record the stories of events that quite literally changed Texas.

In 1925 the occupant of this prairie home, Charles Goodnight, was visited by a young collegiate historian from West Texas State Normal College in Canyon. J. Evetts Haley had been dispatched by his employer, the Panhandle Plains Historical Society, to secure an interview with the “Colonel.” This visit marked the beginning of a relationship that would impact the lives of both men. The story of those two kindred spirits has been best told by author B. Byron Price. He presented the Haley- Goodnight story in a book published in 1886 by the Nita Stewart Haley Memorial Library entitled Crafting a Southwestern Masterpiece: J. Evetts Haley and Charles Goodnight: Cowman and Plainsman. Price began the story of the friendship this way:

On a hot summer afternoon in June 1925, a second-hand Model T rumbled down a short country lane in the Texas Panhandle. Pulling to a dusty stop beside an unpretentious white frame ranch house, an aspiring young historian unfolded his lean frame from behind the wheel and ambled to the door, unannounced. J. Evetts Haley was already well acquainted with the legendary reputation of the man who answered his knock. The exploits of Charles Goodnight were still staples of campfire conversation on the cattle ranges around the Midland and Pecos country where Haley had grown to manhood.

Goodnight greeted his visitor cordially and conducted him past a relic- filled study to a cool and shady porch where their conversation soon drifted to Goodnight’s early experiences on the Texas plains. The compelling narrative of the old man’s career as a drover, rancher, and ranger quickly captivated Haley and left him hungry to hear more. Over the next four and one-half years Haley tapped the well-spring of Goodnight’s memory often. The unfailing flow of the old man’s reminiscences, as clear and sweet to a thirsty historian as the hidden waters of an underground aquifer, nurtured Haley’s natural love for the past and the lessons that it taught. Goodnight’s example sustained him during the troubled times that followed and inspired his already talented mind and pen. When the young scholar finally translated his mentor’s spirit into print more than a decade later, he gave the Southwest a literary classic, Charles Goodnight: Cowman & Plainsman.

Eager to benefit from his previous encounter with the magnetic personality of Charles Goodnight, Haley interviewed the old man again during the fall of 1926. On one occasion Haley’s old school chum, Mitch Jones, tagged along. They interrupted Goodnight while he was dictating letters and he came to the door somewhat irritated. After Haley apologized for the intrusion and introduced Jones, a faint smile replaced Goodnight’s scowl. “Well, it’s alright,” he remarked inviting his visitors inside, “if you hadn’t come along, some other son-of-a-bitch would have.”

Haley was not the only one after Goodnight’s recollections in the mid- 1920s. Though many had sought interviews, Goodnight rarely cooperated. A self-professed aversion for publicity and a fear, as one friend put it, that popular writers “would mix in too much red paint” contributed to a reticence that only the determined and diplomatic could overcome. Folklorist J. Frank Dobie, more successful than most, arranged for an interview with the ancient plainsman in the fall of 1926. After receiving, as he put it later, “something between an invitation and permission to come on out, “Dobie headed for the Panhandle in September. Missing Haley at Canyon on the way, Dobie stayed four days with Goodnight during which time he garnered both a “good cussing” and “a great deal of intimate and fresh material” for an article eventually published in Country Gentleman.

An interest in post-Civil War cattle trails led Haley back the Goodnight’s ranch in November 1926. The old cowman had survived a serious bout with illness but was recovering rapidly and even walking a little when Haley arrived. “He seemed in very good spirits,” the relieved historian wrote Dobie, and seemed able to smoke as many cigars and drink as strong coffee as ever. I greatly enjoyed being with him, and talked with him so continuously that I really expected him to cuss me out on general principles before I left, but he seemed not to tire, and was very cordial…

Though this was the third time I had been with him, I took fair warning and left the second night. I thought it would be better to leave than to get run off, as I would feel more like coming back in the future. I enjoyed my visit to the utmost, and the more I see of him, the more I am convinced that he is a very unusual character. He is a real thinker, and his mind, in spite of his illness, is still as smart as a whip.”

During the summer of 1927 the Capitol Reservation Lands, a Chicago- based corporation, commissioned Haley to write a history of the XIT Ranch. His interviews with Goodnight extended in new directions as a result and the author relied heavily on the Colonel’s accounts of Panhandle ranching before the founding of the XIT to lay the groundwork for his study. In the course of his investigations Haley compiled considerable information about Goodnight’s Indian experiences. The most vivid of these recollections appeared as the lead article in the Panhandle –Plains Historical Review launched under Haley’s editorship in the fall of 1928. The honor further endeared Haley to Goodnight and his wife, who wrote upon receiving a copy of the proposed article in late July: “To say we are delighted with the way you have handled them, does not half express it. Colonel says it sounds far better than he ever thought it would and is greatly pleased.”

In September of 1929 Colonel Goodnight started his usual trip to Tucson for the winter to ward off the effects of the Panhandle winters on his aging, asthmatic body. He and wife Corrine (editor’s note: Goodnight remarried after Molly’s death) stopped in Canyon to visit Haley, who was recuperating at home from an auto accident. The writer was able to conduct a few additional interviews during that two-day visit, which was fortuitous, for Charles Goodnight was not to ever return to his house on the plains. Suffering the effects of a bad November cold, the legendary pioneer died in Tucson, peacefully in his sleep, on December 29, 1929.

After the death of Goodnight, Haley traveled the course of events necessary to have his work on the much-revered subject published. In the spring of 1936, Charles Goodnight: Cowman and Plainsman was released by Houghton Mifflin with advance orders exceeding 1,000; the book is still in publication today.

The lives of individuals who passed through the doors of the house on the plains in Armstrong County were forever influenced. From Goodnight and his family, to J. Evetts Haley, artist Harold Bugbee (who provided illustrations for Haley’s book), J. Frank Dobie, and now to an inquiring public, this house stands as a reminder of things past and of an enduring Texas legacy.

Pat McDaniel is the director of the Nita Stewart Haley Memorial Library in Midland.