For the past month or so, I've been corresponding with "lawandorder" about acquiring a Colt Model 1903 Hammerless .32 caliber pocket pistol. He knew of my interest in the original owner, and was kind enough to give me a chance to acquire it. By the way, anyone would be fortunate to deal with "lawandorder" as he is a real gentleman and exceedingly ethical.
Who was the original owner? He was a legend in Arizona, and his name was Captain Harry C. Wheeler.
Born in 1875 of a military family, Harry volunteered for the U.S. Cavalry at the time of the Spanish American War. Although he was not sent to that war, he did serve honorably and learned the military ways.
In 1903, he joined the newly formed Arizona state law enforcement group, the Arizona Rangers. They were a tough breed of men, chasing outlaws, mostly on horseback, all over the state. You may have seen the old Winchester ad of a group of them with their Winchester Model 1895 rifles. At any rate, Harry moved through the ranks, renowned as a relentless law enforcement officer. He became a sergeant, the lieutenant of the outfit, and finally became the Rangers' captain, the top honcho. He was the last top officer of the Rangers, who were disbanded in 1909.
In 1912, Harry volunteered to run for Sheriff of Arizona's Cochise County. He was elected to three successive terms through the year 1918. Cochise County, with Tombstone as the County Seat, was wild and wooly in those days, and Harry worked hard to bring law and order to that Southeast corner of Arizona. He was both successful and popular as he pursued and corralled the bad guys down there. He was a participant in some shootouts, and with his skill with firearms, he won them all, killing a couple of men in the process.
In 1917, as sheriff, Harry ramrodded the "Bisbee Deportation." Bisbee, Arizona, in his county, was the subject of labor strife which threatened to disrupt the copper mines there during WWI. Copper was vital to the war effort, and patriotic Harry would not stand for any interruption. He deputized hundreds of men, most of them loyal mining employees. My grandfather was one of those men. You can read about it here: Bisbee Deportation - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia In the early morning hours of July 12, Harry and his deputies rounded up the agitators, marched them to a nearby ball park in Warren, put them on cattle cars and rail-freighted them to the middle of the desert in New Mexico, telling 'em never to return again.
Harry tried to get back in the Army, seeking a commission to go to France and fight. He was refused; he was 43 years old and had sustained an injury from a horse kick when he was in the cavalry. Not to be deterred, he pulled all his strings, resigned as sheriff and secured a commission in the Signal Corps Air Service as a Captain. On his way east, he bought for himself a little pistol which is the subject of this post. He had it stamped with his name and rank, and scrawled his name on the inside of the grips.
In France, he petitioned for a transfer to the Infantry so he could fight "the Huns." This petition was granted, but at about the same time he was furloughed back to Arizona to face kidnapping charges resulting from the Deportation.
Those charges were subsequently dropped, but Harry never realized his dream to fight for his country in France; he spent the war in charge of a machine gun company on the border.
Harry died at the age of 50 from pneumonia. He was buried in Bisbee's Evergreen Cemetery, not far from my grandfather, in December, 1925. He had lost two sons, one in an auto accident, and one as a crib death. His second wife bore him a son and a daughter.
His guns were retained in the family and eventually sold or otherwise disposed of. He was an active shooter, and competed in both rifle and pistol matches, up to and including the National Matches in Camp Perry, Ohio.
I'm pleased to show you the little pistol Harry purchased on his way to France, and a picture of his grave in Bisbee. Harry's little Colt is back in Arizona, and someday I hope it will wind up in the old Tombstone, AZ courthouse where he had his headquarters as Sheriff, for permanent display.
Hope you enjoyed the story.
John
I don't know the reason for the numbers over his name on the bottom grip; I'm open to ideas on this? It occurred to me that in those days, phone numbers were only 5 digits. Who knows?
Harry Wheeler was a brave Arizonan, right up there with his predecessor John Slaughter, and a lawman on a par with Wyatt Earp. Here's a picture of his grave:
Who was the original owner? He was a legend in Arizona, and his name was Captain Harry C. Wheeler.
Born in 1875 of a military family, Harry volunteered for the U.S. Cavalry at the time of the Spanish American War. Although he was not sent to that war, he did serve honorably and learned the military ways.
In 1903, he joined the newly formed Arizona state law enforcement group, the Arizona Rangers. They were a tough breed of men, chasing outlaws, mostly on horseback, all over the state. You may have seen the old Winchester ad of a group of them with their Winchester Model 1895 rifles. At any rate, Harry moved through the ranks, renowned as a relentless law enforcement officer. He became a sergeant, the lieutenant of the outfit, and finally became the Rangers' captain, the top honcho. He was the last top officer of the Rangers, who were disbanded in 1909.
In 1912, Harry volunteered to run for Sheriff of Arizona's Cochise County. He was elected to three successive terms through the year 1918. Cochise County, with Tombstone as the County Seat, was wild and wooly in those days, and Harry worked hard to bring law and order to that Southeast corner of Arizona. He was both successful and popular as he pursued and corralled the bad guys down there. He was a participant in some shootouts, and with his skill with firearms, he won them all, killing a couple of men in the process.
In 1917, as sheriff, Harry ramrodded the "Bisbee Deportation." Bisbee, Arizona, in his county, was the subject of labor strife which threatened to disrupt the copper mines there during WWI. Copper was vital to the war effort, and patriotic Harry would not stand for any interruption. He deputized hundreds of men, most of them loyal mining employees. My grandfather was one of those men. You can read about it here: Bisbee Deportation - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia In the early morning hours of July 12, Harry and his deputies rounded up the agitators, marched them to a nearby ball park in Warren, put them on cattle cars and rail-freighted them to the middle of the desert in New Mexico, telling 'em never to return again.
Harry tried to get back in the Army, seeking a commission to go to France and fight. He was refused; he was 43 years old and had sustained an injury from a horse kick when he was in the cavalry. Not to be deterred, he pulled all his strings, resigned as sheriff and secured a commission in the Signal Corps Air Service as a Captain. On his way east, he bought for himself a little pistol which is the subject of this post. He had it stamped with his name and rank, and scrawled his name on the inside of the grips.
In France, he petitioned for a transfer to the Infantry so he could fight "the Huns." This petition was granted, but at about the same time he was furloughed back to Arizona to face kidnapping charges resulting from the Deportation.
Those charges were subsequently dropped, but Harry never realized his dream to fight for his country in France; he spent the war in charge of a machine gun company on the border.
Harry died at the age of 50 from pneumonia. He was buried in Bisbee's Evergreen Cemetery, not far from my grandfather, in December, 1925. He had lost two sons, one in an auto accident, and one as a crib death. His second wife bore him a son and a daughter.
His guns were retained in the family and eventually sold or otherwise disposed of. He was an active shooter, and competed in both rifle and pistol matches, up to and including the National Matches in Camp Perry, Ohio.
I'm pleased to show you the little pistol Harry purchased on his way to France, and a picture of his grave in Bisbee. Harry's little Colt is back in Arizona, and someday I hope it will wind up in the old Tombstone, AZ courthouse where he had his headquarters as Sheriff, for permanent display.
Hope you enjoyed the story.
John
I don't know the reason for the numbers over his name on the bottom grip; I'm open to ideas on this? It occurred to me that in those days, phone numbers were only 5 digits. Who knows?
Harry Wheeler was a brave Arizonan, right up there with his predecessor John Slaughter, and a lawman on a par with Wyatt Earp. Here's a picture of his grave:
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