Jim Mickel – “Outlaw”
Jim Mickel was my second-great-granduncle on my mom’s side of the family
His story is long and complex. It’s the second family history song I wrote, and it was an entirely different experience from writing Martha’s song. Martha’s story was more or less already put into narrative form for me. I had all the pieces I needed to form a song within Charles Leland Craw’s record. Now that I’ve been trying my hand at Family History Research for a while, I’ve gone back and put similar research efforts into Martha’s story to at least attempt to separate truth from embellishment. Jim’s story never really allowed me an easy route; it was research from the start, and I still have a lot of questions.
I have a few relatives that can probably tell you a lot more than I can about the details of Jim Mickel’s story. And I have a lot of relatives that can tell you a lot less. Someday, I’d like to sit us all down together and trade stories and facts.
The problem with Jim Mickel’s story is a combination of too much information and a lack of verified evidence all the way around. There are multiple records of what happened at Reeder Ridge the day Sheriff Burns died. Some of my family insist that Burns was corrupt and the boys were defending themselves. Others acknowledge the likelihood that Moen and Jim were up to no good, got themselves into all the trouble they found, and then shot the Sheriff instead of owning up to their crimes.
(A relatively unbiased podcast reviewing the story)
Like I state in my song, my personal belief is that the truth probably falls somewhere between those two stances. “When all is said and done…” I’m not sure anyone was really innocent, and I’m not sure there are clear villains or good guys in this story.
I’ll tell you the general story as I know it, and then, as usual, I drop the facts and evidence in our family history, census records, newspaper clippings, and other family member findings.
The story I heard about Jim Mickel growing up was something like this:
Jim Mickel had a friend named Moen Kofford. The Sheriff accused him of them rustling some sheep. Both boys probably had a reputation for being rowdy troublemakers, especially Moen, but whether or not they were the kind of guys who would steal sheep was debatable (especially if you ask their mothers 😉 ). Sheriff Burns took the boys, or at least Moen, to court. The judge let them off the hook, but Sheriff Burns told them he’d make sure they paid for what they’d done. They may have been proven innocent or there may have just not been enough evidence to charge them. Some people think that Moen owed Jim money, and stole the sheep to pay him back. There is some debate about whether Jim knew the sheep were stolen. Other people claim the boys were hired to herd/move sheep for somebody else as part of the co-op, and that a portion of the herd they were hired to move had already been stolen. A few people believe Burns was holding a grudge and abusing his power despite evidence. So far, there’s not much direct proof either way, and of course my ancestors were probably looking to see the good side of uncle Jim.
Anyway, as the story goes, one night, Sheriff Burns went out to Moen and Jim’s camp to take back the stolen sheep and arrest the boys. Instead, a gun fight broke out. The sheriff’s posse ran away at the sound of the first shot. Burns was found dead on the ground later, and Moen and Jim went on the run. Jim was injured so they needed medical help. A doctor in orangeville helped stitch him up and let him rest. Later, some people think some Native Americans helped Jim and Moen disappear into rough terrains where the posse couldn’t follow them.
For a long time the family didn’t know what happened to Jim Mickel after that (aside from a few rumors that he used to return home dressed as a woman, and stay in the cellar until the coast was clear). But one night, a judge by the last name of Burns (I know his full name, but I’ll let the truly curious investigate further into the local lore, if they’d like) spoke to my great aunt, Dixie (in my song I call her my grandma. This is because she never had her own grandchildren, and she was every bit as much as a grandmother to me as her sister (my real grandma) is. I called her Grandma Dixie for as long as I knew her. Anyway, one day, Dixie was contacted by Judge Burns, and he told her that his father and uncle had hunted Moen and Jim down and killed them. He particularly mentioned that one of them had gotten to know Jim over nearly two years to make sure it was him, and then shot him in a mine in Arizona. On his deathbed he confessed it had haunted him all his life. Despite knowing it was the man who had killed his father, he felt guilty for what he had done.
That’s the gist of what I knew about the Jim Mickel story growing up. When I revisited it to write this song, I started to personally read the written histories, the newspaper clippings, and all the court records I could find. Somebody has compiled every version of the Jim Mickel story, so I’ll start by leaving that master document here. I’m particularly amused by Moen’s family’s attempts to clear his name. 😉 I swear at some point I’ve seen a court record or two, but I haven’t been able to reproduce those yet. If I find them, you know I’ll add them to this page and the timeline.
With no further ado, here’s the Kofford compilation of many versions of the story (but keep reading afterwards for more):
My mom told me once that a good portion of the family believes that Jim is the one who ultimately pulled the trigger on the Sheriff. I believe this is because there is a version of the story in which Moen returns from the corrals and asks Jim what happened to the Sheriff. Jim seems shaken and says, “He lays low.” The fact that Jim ends up with a bullet wound also suggests that it may have been him that came into direct conflict with the Sheriff, but no one really knows for sure. For years it was believed that Kofford pulled the trigger, and it seems like most versions of the story at least imply that. Burns was found with several bullet wounds which leaves room for all kinds of explanations.
Newspapers and historical records claim Jim was never apprehended. There is some record that Kofford died of illness in a hospital in California. I seem to recall there being some problems with verifying that information, and from what I can find it’s extremely unreliable hearsay. Newspapers also published updates on where they believed Kofford and Mickel were. I remember reading these clips and realizing they hadn’t a clue. There was no way that they could be moving between California, Mexico, Wyoming, and Arizona as quickly as papers were publishing new claims about their whereabouts. I’ve included many clips in the timeline below, but I’m sure there are more, and I’ll keep looking.
So what I’ve learned from Jim Mickel’s story, and what becomes the overall theme of the song, is that newspapers were often more concerned with breaking a new, sensational story than making sure they get the information correct. I noticed that the stories are undoubtedly written to create excitement and emotion, a lot of the time reporting sensational, but wholly unverified information. I’ve also learned that there are often more than two sides to a good story, and the truth can be nearly impossible to know, but it’s best to remember that the truth really does fall “somewhere between the lines” instead of printed “in traditional black and white.”
At the end of the day, this song is a reminder that most of us aren’t all good or all bad, that in real life the villains and heroes aren’t always cut and dry, that revenge, even when it seems entirely justified, always comes at a cost, and that it’s important to record and tell the truth whenever we can before it becomes too muddled to distinguish fact from fiction.
I’ve put together a timeline of newspaper clippings and details for Jim Mickel and Moen Kofford’s story below, and I’ll add all the records I can find as usual. Enjoy, and let me know… who’s the outlaw, now?