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DocWard last won the day on May 19 2018

DocWard had the most liked content!

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About DocWard

  • Rank
    SASS Wire Vet
  • Birthday 02/14/1966

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  • SASS Number or "Guest"
  • SASS Affiliated Club
    Miami Valley Cowboys

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  • Gender
  • Location
    Southwest Ohio
  • Interests
    Shooting, building models, camping, enjoying time with my family.

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  1. My dad has long been a fan of Doc Watson, along with Charlie Monroe as far as guitarists go. Then you have Chet Atkins, Vince Gill and a slew of other amazing guitarists I could name that play country and blue grass.
  2. If I were going to upgrade something on one, the first thing would be the brakes. Second would be the windshield wipers.
  3. You forgot the name dropping--- a reference to Hank Williams, Merle Haggard, or the like for credibility.
  4. Doc Ward stood outside Miss Whiskey's place, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Looking at Rye, he asked, "He said Sheriff Cody killed his sons? Did he say what his name was?" Rye slowly shook his head, "No, and after he unloaded both barrels, I wasn't inclined to ask while he reloaded." Doc nodded his understanding. "Anything with his name in his pockets? I'd at least like to know who we're burying." At this query the undertaker piped up. "Just a couple of dollars and more shotgun shells." Again Doc nodded. "Any reason to believe he's part of this new group with Zeb Gardner? He's down at the jail right now talking to the sheriff. Any of their group inside?" At this question, Miss Whiskey, who had been standing nearby, commented "Not tonight, and I don't think so Doc. He ain't as well dressed as that group, and they seem to have plenty of money. Also, I noticed since you sh.. had the run in with that man down by the jail, they always come by in groups of twos, at least. He was alone." Doc nodded his agreement and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I'll see if the sheriff has any ideas. Hopefully he'll be done talking to Gardner soon. At that moment, Gardner was feeling frustrated, sensing the sheriff was smarter than he had been told, and suspected more than he let on. He had come into the jail with a couple of demands in mind, although he had called them "requests." As the sheriff stood behind his desk, Mr. Gardner took the seat offered to him, Alice Slye in her typically risqué clothing seating herself first. Once she was seated, the sheriff sat himself back down. "Sheriff, I have a couple of requests of you." Nodding, Cody asked pleasantly "And what might those be?" Gardner, looking very seriously, said "I believe it would be appropriate to fire your deputy and charge him with murder." Sheriff Cody paused for a moment, then leaned back in his seat, his elbows on the arms of the chair, fingers interlocked in front of him. "Not simply fire him, but charge him with murder? Why would I do that?" Mr. Gardner, feigned a look of awkwardness before responding, "Well, now, face it, he does appear to be somewhat of a loose cannon." Gesturing to his own face that still had some swelling and bruising, more from having the tooth pulled than the actual blow with the shotgun butt. "According to the undertaker, he shot Bob Monk in cold blood." Now Cody was genuinely surprised. "The undertaker said that?" Gardner hesitated a moment before continuing. "Uhmmm.... Well, not exactly. He did say Bob's pistol was still in the holster. So what else could it have been? We're just cattlemen," Gardner lied, "but Bob was known among our small group as being... Handy... Handy with a gun." At this, the sheriff asked "Was he known to be a liar or to exaggerate things as well?" Mr. Gardner stiffened. "Most certainly not." Cody responded, "So, when he asked Doc if he was scared, and then told him that he was going to kill him, Doc was smart in taking him at his word, wouldn't you agree?" Gardner shifted in his seat, unaware of the information before now. Cody continued. "I wouldn't expect any man, much less a deputy working for me, who had previously been threatened by someone, and was being confronted and told by that person he was going to kill him, and had the means on his hip, to wait for that man to make good on his word before responding. Would you?" Gardner sat quietly for a moment, when Alice Slye leaned forward, placing a lace-gloved hand on the edge of the desk and, smiling a smile that was a little cold for its effort, chimed in, "Sheriff, Bob was well liked. Men at the ranch aren't happy about what they see as him being murdered. I don't want it to get ugly for you." If Alice was thinking the Sheriff would be any more likely to agree with her due to her womanly charms, she was mistaken. With a frown and a cold gaze, Cody responded "It will be entirely up to Mr. Gardner, and you, if you are giving orders over there, to keep under control. I will not be threatened, and I certainly won't fire my deputy so he can be tossed to wolves." Alice, quickly shaking off the surprise of the Sheriff's answer, replied, "Oh, no, sheriff, that isn't what I meant at all. We're just worried about keeping the peace, and everyone being safe." Cody smiled a smile that let her know he took the comment with more than just a grain of salt. "Then we're on the same page. I know Doc doesn't want to hurt anyone," Cody paused, looking at Gardner's jaw and smiling, "much less kill them. I'm confident, though, that he will not be pushed. I think you both understand that he has my full faith to do the job as he sees fit." Cody leaned forward, his voice lowered, less in a threatening manner and more informational. "I believe Doc has a couple of graveyards behind him. It seems to me, he has gone out of his way to find a way to not add to them. Unfortunately, he was the best man for the job when I got beat within an inch of my own life, and I had to talk him into taking the job, at that. Now it seems we have enough trouble to warrant me keeping him on. I'm glad to have him, quite frankly." At this point, Cody's voice took on more of a lecturing tone. "I'm convinced his actions at the dance saved lives." When Gardner started to protest, " Cody held up a hand, "Either some good townspeople were going to be shot by your crew of 'cattlemen,'" Cody added sarcastic emphasis to the word, "or you, and maybe a few of your men, were going to be lynched at some point. This is a peaceful town, with peaceful people who just want to be left alone. Like many another though, they have a strong sense of what is right and wrong, will fight if pushed, make no mistake." Gardner stood, and Alice Slye and the sheriff stood as well. "I have friends in the legislature who may feel the need to inquire further." Gardner threatened. "Your deputy, you, and the people of this town." Cody took a deep breath, counting to control his temper. Finally, after a long pause, he replied, "So do I, Mr. Gardner, as well as other places. Let your friends inquire. I welcome it. There may be plenty for them to inquire about before too long. Seems with arson, assaults and beatings, we've had an increase in crime since you and your group have moved into the area. Right now, I'm only able to say it is a coincidence. Who knows what a full blown investigation might reveal." Gardner's face got hard and he turned on his heel. "Good evening, sheriff," he said stiffly. As he approached the door, Doc Ward was just walking in. Gardner shoved his way by, even as Doc was tipping his hat and saying "Ma'am," to Alice Slye, who offered a cold glare in return as she brushed past. Closing the door, Doc Ward looked at the sheriff. "What did they want." Cody shrugged. "For me to fire you." Doc grinned and let his hand hover over his badge. "Are you going to?" Cody's answer was succinct. "Nope." Doc sighed. "Well, damn." As he sat down, Doc looked over at the Sheriff and asked, "Say, did you ever kill any brothers?" Cody, completely confused, paused before replying, "Not that I am aware of, why?" With that, Doc explained about the man that Rye had shot. "Part of the Gardner bunch?" Doc shook his head. "My first thought, but nobody seems to think so." Cody shook his head again, "That is troublesome. Troublesome, indeed. Why can't things just stay quiet? This is a good community, with good people. I'd hate to see that change."
  5. I'd go too. Definitely beats what passes for Country these days. I'm OK with most older stuff.
  6. I'm sorry to hear. He, you and your family will be in my thoughts and meditations. And as J. Mark Flint suggested, if there are things that can be done, let us know.
  7. My daughter, the one that wrote the "Jackwagon vs. the Aliens" SASS short story, has wanted to do one about aliens landing, maybe in New York Harbor, or something of the sort, with an EMP shield that disables any warship that comes near them, and someone at the Pentagon realizing the USS Constitution would be able to penetrate the shield. She hasn't started it yet, but if she ever writes, I will certainly post it here.
  8. The BUFF, because the Air Force desperately wants to get rid of the A-10. Eventually, they'll figure out a way to do it. That and the huge amount of flight hours they endure, gives the Air Force additional cause.
  9. I saw that. Fortunate the jockey wasn't hurt, and that the horse didn't get mixed up with the others.
  10. Shortly after Nathaniel Gardner walked out of the house, two men walked onto the porch and knocked before entering. One was tall and muscular, with blonde hair and pale blue eyes. The other was shorter and stockier, with a swarthy look and eyes that were flat and emotionless. He had a heavy stubble across his jaw that made his face look even darker. Zeb Gardner greeted them both, and when they asked about the whereabouts of Alice Slye, he gestured toward the kitchen with his thumb. Walking into the kitchen they saw Alice, still wearing her sleeping gown that didn't leave enough to the imagination for decorum, with her hair pulled back into a braid. The blonde averted his attention, a bit of red rising up his neck to his cheeks. His shorter companion just looked ahead, as if he barely noticed Alice's presence. Alice Slye rose to greet the men with a smile. Her soft voice almost cooed as she got closer to the men. "Johann, Michael, thank you so much for what you did the other night. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you got back." Standing a little too close for the comfort of the tall blonde, she smiled and out of a hidden pocket, produced a gold piece, slipping it in his vest pocket and patting it as she looked up at him, finding humor in his discomfort at the situation. Turning to the shorter, dark skin man, Alice looked at him, almost at eye level, and did the same for him, letting her hand linger a little longer to see if she could get some sort of reaction. To her disappointment, all he did was glance down at her hand and then nod. Alice turned and walked to the heavy table and leaned against it, knowing the clothes she wore framed her womanly body. "We have to think of what to do next. More of the same won't work. Perhaps if some of the cattle from the S-D were to end up on the land of that little wench and her brother. Maybe butcher one where it can be found. You get the idea." Pushing away from the table, Alice Slye again stood close to the pair, putting her hands to pat their vest pockets. "You know I'll make it worth your while." The blonde nodded and in a thick German accent said "Ja, I think ve can do that."
  11. I meant to ask, during the last few seconds of the video, where she's sweeping (!), is that an old Browns jersey or tee?
  12. Zeb Gardner was sitting in the parlor at the Hoover ranch house looking over some maps of the area that were drawn up based on scouting done by his men. His jaw and neck still ached from the crack he took with the butt of a shotgun, and he had to have a broken tooth pulled, all of which left him in a foul mood. Alice Slye, a late riser whenever she had the chance, was just wandering into the kitchen in search of breakfast. The door to the ranch house opened and his son Nathaniel walked in. "Pa, there's a bit of a problem. The undertaker just rode up, and it seems Bob Monk went and got himself killed." Gardner came half out of his seat, and started cursing a blue streak. Nate stood patiently until his father asked "How the hell did he get himself killed?" Nate shifted uncomfortably before replying. "According to what the undertaker said, he braced that deputy sheriff. Seems they had words at the dance, and he went back with a chip on his shoulder." Gardner now stood, and began pacing, cursing again. "Why didn't he take someone with him? I've told everyone to always have a saddle partner wherever they go. And how did that deputy kill him? Bob was no slouch with a gun, and we were told he was just some milksop liveryman who always has his nose in a book! What the hell is going on here?" Now Nate took a deep breath. "I asked the undertaker about that. He said Bob wanted to talk big, but once he said he was going to kill the deputy, the deputy didn't wait for Bob to open the ball. Said Nate had two slugs in his chest, and his gun was still in the holster. According to the undertaker, that liveryman was shooting at a bunch of bank robbers as they barreled toward him at a full gallop a couple of years back, and he hit what he was aiming at. Lots of rumors about what he did before coming to town, but nobody knows for sure. Whatever he is, he ain't no milksop." Zeb Gardner continued pacing, mumbling "Should've figured that after the way he reacted at that dance. By what you boys said, he sounded more like a crazy man after he knocked me out. I don't think he's in his right mind. Maybe I should go talk to that Sheriff and see if we have any recourse. A man like that could be a danger to us." Gardner's head lifted and he rubbed his sore jaw as a thought came to him. "A man like that could be a danger. He shouldn't be a deputy sheriff! Why, what about the citizens of the community?" Nate immediately understood what his father meant. Get the deputy out of a job, and there might be one less thing to deal with. "What's the word on that girl and her brother? We need that place." Gardner asked. His son shook his head. "Got men scouting, but trying hard not to be seen. Seems one of the two is always traipsing around. That windstorm we had tore through their place especially hard too. Tore up a bunch of trees and brush. Making some of it unpassable." Gardner nodded, and looked at his son with a flat expression. "It'd be tragic if one of 'em was to get hurt in all that torn up ground, now wouldn't it. Simply tragic." His son nodded grimly. "Yes, Pa, I'll pass that along." "And tell the men to ride in pairs, and to give that crazy deputy a wide berth."
  13. I like that bottom one. Sort of a first generation Ford Bronco or old Land Rover vibe going for it!
  14. I agree, the Daughter Rule is a sliding scale!
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