Old, twisted trees enshroud the hollow, decaying house at 911 E. Chantry. The building’s posture within the web of gnarled branches and twigs brings to mind a desiccated bug long ago ensnared in a spider’s web. This house, now empty and forlorn, was once the warm, friendly home of one of the last true cowboys.
Frank Eaton, better known as “Pistol Pete,” survives today as the mascot of Oklahoma State University, New Mexico State University and the University of Wyoming. The verbal eloquence and unmatched marksmanship of the legendary philosopher-cowboy and Deputy U.S. Marshall earned him a national reputation and a place in the Cowboy Hall of Fame. Frank’s youngest daughter, Elizabeth W*se, told me a story about a time when she was a girl and two men came to this house to put her father’s shooting skills to the test.
“They were having some kind of a celebration in town,” Elizabeth began. “It may have been Old Settlers Day. And these two drugstore cowboys pulled up in front of the house in their big old Cadillac, and they stopped to visit Dad because they had heard about him and what a good shot he was. And he was,” she added. “He was an excellent marksman.”
Frank was a small, lean man who wore his hair in long braids topped with an old, weathered cowboy hat. His huge, wiry mustache rested on his face like a fuzzy cactus nestled at the foot of a desert cliff. According to Elizabeth, he always wore his gun loaded because, as he said, “I’d rather have a pocket full of rocks than an empty gun!”
The men talked a while as Elizabeth, her sister and mother sat on the front porch listening to the conversation. Unimpressed by Frank’s small stature, one of the men said that he would give him five dollars if Frank could shoot a hole in his hat when he tossed it in the air.
“The man took off his hat,” Elizabeth continued, “a great big, white, ten-gallon Stetson, threw it in the air, and Dad pulled his gun out and fired twice. There were four holes in that hat, and you know, they had gone completely through it!” She chuckled when I asked her if her dad got his five dollars.
“Yes, the man kinda stumbled over and picked up his hat and dug around in his pocket and fished out five dollars and threw it in Dad’s direction, got in the car and drove away—he didn’t say another word! It scared that guy to death!”
