Sunday, April 21, 2019

Tales from the Ville: Tule Flats- The Beginning

The past can sometimes catch up with you. As time passes, it can make a clean getaway all together. This is somewhere in the middle. If I get some of the facts wrong, blame my aged brain. After all, this happened 40 years ago.

The Pollardville Ghost Town wasn't always such. For a brief period of time, it went under the name Tule Flats.

Back in 1979, four business partners, consisting of Greg Dart, Jim Cusick, Steve Wright and Dave Black, approached Neil Pollard with the idea of running the Ghost Town as a separate entity. They would revitalize the town with improvements, new attractions and more gunslingers than you can shake a stick at. Along with this came a re-branding and a name change. Thus, Tule Flats Ghost Town was born...or re-born as the case may be. What the other names these guys came up with before they settled on Tule Flats, well, ya got me. How about Feral Cat Junction?

As I said, they hired a whole crew of gunfighters for the re-launch. I had been asked to join, but I was reluctant. At the age of 24, I felt I had move past the Ghost Town, having spent much of my teenage years out there. I stayed until I was 19 when all that remained was Sheriff John, Fast Fester and myself.  When I left, I tried to make it as an actor in San Francisco with mixed results and actually returned to Stockton a year later to enroll in Delta College. (Yeah. Go big or go home. Guess what I did?) In the years that followed, I found myself in a very bad state of mind, a bout of crushing depression that I stupidly kept to myself. I had nothing going on in my life at that time, a chip on my shoulder because of it and a head full of dreams that were beginning to make me light headed. After much soul-searching, which I did with a metal detector, I acquiesced and headed back to the mean streets of the Ghost Town.

I figured, "Hey, I'm a veteran cowpoke. I know these bits inside and out. As I soon as I walk onto Main Street, I'll be back in the saddle again in no time." Not so fast there, Slim Jim.

The gunfights and fighters therein were being directed by the one and only Dennis Landingham aka D.W. He had brought in Jimmy Walsh, Bob Gossett, Terry Ross and some kid named Grant Phillips as well a couple of other day players. Some of this group had come over from the Palace Showboat, though Dennis and Bob had previous Ghost Town experience when I wasn't around. I think Dennis knew who I was as well, though we never met until the day I arrived. Naturally, the man who got me involved with the entire Pollardville experience in the first place, my best friend, Edward Thorpe had also joined the group, a major comeback for him  after his stint in the Navy. Last and never least, Sheriff John still held down the fort, even if that fort had been taken over by somebody new. I sure was glad to see him again and he, in his own ornery cuss way, might have felt the same way....without saying it, of course. He didn't say much of anything and sometimes that spoke volumes.

So there I was, watching Dennis put together some of the gunfights, bringing back some that hadn't been performed in ages because they required bigger casts. But some of the "classics", such as they were, were on the docket as well like "Poker Chip" and the ever popular "Saddle Drop". His style lent a little more on the action side. The wagon below the balcony of the hotel had new padding, perfect for a fall from above.  Naturally more stunt fights were added, though one took me aback with what considered to be an out-of-place, though well executed, judo flip. Hey, what did I know? I was just a hired hand and boy, did I begin to feel it.
D.W. Landingham

Then D.W. began to cast the roles and...uh...what do you mean I have one line and I die first? Or I don't have any lines and I still die first? Or I don't have any lines but I don't die first cuz I ain't in the damn thing at all? Whut? Hey, wasn't this my stomping grounds? My turf? My town? It was as though my years of experience meant diddly squat and another thing, I had done a play in San Fran-goddamn-cisco, okay? Yeah, that was fours ago, but...shut up! Who asked you? I didn't need this....

Bitch. Moan. Gripe. Repeat.

I'd watch the others with an overly-critical eye. I had quibbles to be sure. Bob and Jimmy were all fine and dandy to be sure. So was Dennis, who cast himself in everything because, well, he could. He threw himself into everything and I quite honestly was impressed. Inwardly, anyway. I couldn't quite figure out Terry. Something was...I just didn't know. Kept trying to direct me or how to take a fall, suggestions I readily ignored. As for Grant, I had more scrutiny. He was all over the place,really manic and seemed to be trying too hard. The truth of the matter was he was what I wanted to be again. I wasn't much different when I first came out there and now this kid had taken my spot. Observing him with my jealous eye, my insecurity wasn't about to give him a break. That is, until he made me laugh. More than once. Then I realized he wasn't me at that age. He was better. Damn it.

Tule Flats Ghost Town opened to a decent, but not especially crowded group of patrons, not as many as anticipated but a helluva lot more than in recent years. The place certainly looked better with a major clean-up and paint job on certain buildings as well as some new additions like an ice cream stand near the front entrance. The train was up and running, definitely spit and polished with a tune-up thrown in for good measure. Naturally, the gunfighters were the main attraction and the shows frankly didn't disappoint.
Me back then. Nice hat.

While I still had some issues with this new regime, I had invited Bill Humphreys to come out and join the crew. I had only recently met Bill through a mutual friend but we found a common ground almost immediately. He had been off in the world of Big Time Showbiz working in television in Oregon and Hooray for Hollywood. I'm not sure why he decided to hang out with us at the Ville. Maybe he was attracted to the same thing we all were.

But as for me, relegated to minor roles of one line or none, not to mention dying first on the far side of town away from the action, the frustration escalated. This continued over the next couple of weekends, making me doubt my extra added value to these proceedings. But I did get an interesting perspective on things from this vantage point, particularly on Easter Sunday. The patrons were better dressed than usual after church services and lunch at the Chicken Kitchen, but they did dwindle to only a few in the mid-afternoon. The skies clouded over indicating there might be a storm on the way.

We were performing a gunfight called "Wanted: Dead or Alive". D.W. had cast himself as the villain who found himself locked up in jail in the early moments. When his crew busted him out, the wind started to pick up, blowing a sizable cloud of dust down Main Street. Dennis exited the jail at this point ready for the final gunfight between he and the Sheriff. Lightning flashed overhead followed by a rumble of thunder as the two faced off to the inevitable conclusion. The audience and various on-lookers erupted in cheers, making up for their small size. The gunfighters rose from the dirt and, realizing some kind of Divine Intervention had just occurred. It was either that or the entire Tule Flats special effects budget for the entire year was blown in one fell swoop. All I know is that a sudden kinship between this new wild bunch was beginning to form from that moment on. Even Sheriff John had to smile. At least, I think it was a smile. Hard to tell.

I'm not saying this Miracle on Main Street is what caused me to re-evaluate myself and stop acting like a petulant child in the first days of Tule Flats, but it sure didn't hurt. In the following weeks, I moved into some better roles and the rest is Ghost Town history. (stories forthcoming) Starting over again wasn't a consideration when I decided to to go back, but it was necessary. I had to hit the re-set button and when my twenty four year old pride wouldn't allow it, my ego got a most deserved good kick in the huevos. Such is the arrogance of youth. This youth, anyway. It took a long time to accept the cold hard truth about the Ville in my life.

In order to move forward, I first had to step back.

Next up: Chapter Two-IN THE SUMMERTIME

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