The Birthplace of an Outlaw Legend

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On a small Missouri farm Back when the west was young Two boys learned to rope and ride And be handy with a gun (“Frank and Jesse James” by Warren Zevon) My last official stop on this vacation was in Kearney, Missouri, where one of the biggest legends in American history was born: Jesse James. If you look at the history of the border war between Missouri and the Kansas territory you’ll see that the Civil War began long before Fort Sumpter and ended long after Appomattox. Much of the brutality that predated the “official” beginning of the War Between the States was perpetrated in the area where Alexander Franklin James and his younger brother Jesse Woodson James were born. The two boys were sons of a Baptist minister. Had their father lived things may have been different; however, their father felt “called” to go to California to start a church among the gold prospectors. While there, he came down with cholera and died, leaving his widow and three young children back in Missouri. While the family household sentiments were secessionist, a brutal attack on the family, which left Jesse beaten and his stepfather severely brain damaged, put the 13-year-old’s feet on the path that he would walk. Brother Frank was already in the Confederate army when the attack on the family farm happened, and he soon would return as a “paroled” soldier. Frank joined with Quantrill’s Raiders (see my previous post about the raid on Lawrence, Kansas, which Frank James participated in), but Jesse was too young. Bloody Bill Anderson had no such age restrictions, and he taught Jesse any final lessons in ruthlessness that the Union soldiers had failed to beat into him. From 1866 until 1881 James and his gang, including the Younger Brothers, were known or suspected to have robbed 25 banks, trains, and carriages, and James was known or suspected in the deaths of over a dozen people. Frank James surrendered and was tried — and acquitted — for his crimes. He lived out his life on the James family farm, dying in 1915. Jesse was tired of the life, and, adopting the alias Thomas Howard, had sent a letter (a photocopy on display in the museum) to a real estate agent in Nebraska, looking to buy some land so he could “settle down.” That never happened, thanks to Robert Ford killing James on April 3, 1882. Jesse James’ legacy is played out in songs, both directly (the traditional “Jesse James,” from a poem about James’ death at the hands of “the thief and the coward” Robert Ford) and indirectly (Elton John’s song “I Feel Like a Bullet [in the Gun of Robert Ford],” comparing breaking up to Ford’s shooting James in the back of the head while Jesse’s back was turned); and, in countless films, ranging from pure comedy (Bob Hope made a movie about Jesse James) to factual to padding the legend. James’ son, Jesse James Jr., even starred in an early silent film about his father. You will see all of this, and much more at the homestead. Much of the original house is still standing, as well as additions that James’ mother had done in her lifetime (she died in 1911, having survived an attack on the farm by the Pinkerton Security Agency that killed an 8-year-old son and forced the amputation of her right arm), the original location of Jesse’s grave (his body was later moved, at the request of his children, to Mt. Olivet Cemetery to be interred next to his wife’s body), and countless artifacts owned or used by Jesse and Frank in their lives of crime. Hearing the explanation of the things that happened to young Jesse, it’s much easier to understand why he chose the life he did. And it was a fitting conclusion to another look at the Civil War history that I like to work into most of my trips. Thanks for coming along for the ride. “Frank and Jesse James” by Warren Zevon: