Jesse James

"Every century brings its heroes and its villains. Every now and then, however, a character lurches forth with a combination of the two; maybe because the world doesn't know whether to love or hate him or her, he or she becomes a milestone in the study of complex mankind. Nitty, gritty, but with the spirit of a conquering warrior. In short, a legend is born.Such a landmark is Jesse Woodson James.Of James, crime historian Jay Robert Nash asserts, "Millions of words would be written about this handsome, dashing and utterly ruthless bank and train robber. To many of his peers, he would appear a folklore hero who took vengeance in their name upon an industrial society that was grinding the old agrarian lifestyle to ashes. To others, Jesse James and his band represented the last vestiges of the Old South and its lost cause of secession...He was at large for sixteen years. He committed dozens of daring robberies and killed at least a half-dozen or more men. He died at the age of thirty-four." Jesse James at the height of his career, 1876In that short span of life Jesse James moved unprincipled yet talented, unschooled yet successful in a changing world. While he rode at his peak, the nation tumbled over its centennial celebration, happy and fat and beating its patriotic breast till black and blue. Changes were a-comin' — some frightening in prospect, others promising. In no other fold of life was American colloquialism turning an about-face more severely than in the West. The Pony Express couldn't keep up with the stage lines, and the stage lines couldn't keep up with the railroads. Agriculture went mechanical. A teacher of the deaf, Alexander Graham Bell, had the crust to dream up something called a telephone. And a wizard named Tom Edison pondered the possibility of lighting cities incandescently. But, Jesse James outrode the changes taking place around him, thumbing his nose at others who said this was a modernized world, and continued to be the Templar knight of things that were; tradition his saddle mate." quoted from PBS' Masterminds forum.______________________________________________________ _____"My name is Jesse James, and I know that you already have some preconceived notion of what kind of man I am, but the truth of the matter is you have no idea. Born on September 5, 1847 in Kearney, MO. I grew up on the James farm with my brother Frank and Sister Sarah. We raised Hemp on the farm, but we children didn’t have to do much work. My mom, Zeralda hired some black people to mind the fields. So Frank and I grew up learning how to ride horses and shoot guns. We had aspirations to go to Texas and discover gold like our father did. Our dad left during the great Gold Rush when I was 3 years old. I looked up to my older brother Frank and when he left to join the Confederates I missed him a great deal. He would come home to visit and tell me stories of adventure and heroism. He said that even when the Civil war is over he will continue to ride free and fight off the conformity of the union militia. He was proud to defend the old west’s’ style of living and protect the ideals of the South. He joined some pretty rough gorilla bands while trying to pursue this fate. I joined up with Frank at 16 years old and followed the leadership of Bloody Bill Anderson and Archie Clements. I learned the ways of the tyrant early and promised then that I would use what I had learned to help others. Frank and I assumed control of our own posse in 1868. We rode with Jim Cole, John and Bob Younger. Clell Miller, Arthur, McCoy, Charlie Pitts, John Jarrette and bill Chawell also rode in the posse. We robbed banks, stage coaches, and trains all over the Central United States. We hit Missouri, Kentucky, Iowa, Arkansas, Kansas, and West Virginia with fury and shared our wealth with the people and lived lavishly. We had attempts made on our lives and escaped hundreds of militia. Once we shot our way through 26 armed militia men. It was known as the Centralia Massacre. After that I had a $10,000 reward put on my head, and all the people every where knew who I was. I was the fastest gunman in the west and I could pick off a flying pigeon from a hundred yards out. Those were the good old days, before the way of the west was snubbed out by new technologies and economic advancements. Things started to get really difficult and I needed to go under cover. I married Zee and hit a few banks hear and there with the Ford brothers. Things were great and I finally had enough lute to retire, but the good times were over for me and my family. I WAS SHOT IN THE BACK in 1876 by that coward Robert Ford. I am survived by my four children: Mary Susan James, Gould James, Montgomery James, and Jesse Edwards James." Excerpts researched and pulled from google. Written by me.I have edited my layout at Crazyprofile.com