https://texags.com/forums/49/topics/3115877
May 1918. Blackstone Hotel
— History With Jacob (@HistoryWJacob) May 25, 2026
Taft checks in and the clerk mentions Roosevelt is eating dinner there. The two hadn't spoken in six years.
They ran against each other in 1912, splitting the Republican Party and handing the White House to Woodrow Wilson. The friendship was dead.… pic.twitter.com/jZruS7GgOw
The Arcane Texas Fact of the Day: If you go to the Memorial Park Cemetery in Memphis, Tennessee, you will find the grave of Laura Bullion. It's nice enough, but not particularly remarkable. You'd never know that Laura was the only female member of Butch Cassidy's "Wild Bunch"… pic.twitter.com/yBfRQh535y
— Traces of Texas (@TracesofTexas) June 1, 2026
Quote:
The Arcane Texas Fact of the Day: If you go to the Memorial Park Cemetery in Memphis, Tennessee, you will find the grave of Laura Bullion. It's nice enough, but not particularly remarkable. You'd never know that Laura was the only female member of Butch Cassidy's "Wild Bunch" Gang.
Laura was most likely born in Knickerbocker, Texas in 1876, though there are also claims that she was born in Arkansas or Kentucky. She was probably of German and Native American heritage.
In the 1890s, Laura Bullion was a member of Butch Cassidy's Wild Bunch gang; her cohorts were fellow outlaws, including the Sundance Kid, "Black Jack" Ketchum, and Kid Curry. For several years in the 1890s, she was romantically involved with outlaw Ben Kilpatrick ("The Tall Texan"), a bank and train robber and an acquaintance of her father, who had been an outlaw, as well. In 1901, Bullion was convicted of robbery and sentenced to five years in prison for her participation in the Great Northern train robbery. She was released in 1905 after serving three years and six months of her punishment.
Laura Bullion moved to Memphis, Tennessee in 1918, posing as a war widow and using assumed names. She supported herself as a householder and seamstress, and later as a drapery maker, dressmaker and interior designer. Her fortunes declined in the late 1940s, at which time she was without an occupation. In 1961, she died of heart disease at the Shelby County Hospital in Memphis. As I mentioned at the beginning, her final resting place is at the Memorial Park Cemetery in Memphis.
The richest man in America signed a document that could have gotten him hanged, and when someone sneered that he was safe because no one would know which Charles Carroll to come for, he picked up the pen and told the British exactly where to find him.
— Echoes of War (@EchoesofWarYT) June 2, 2026
His name was Charles… pic.twitter.com/8XdsA2G0KP
Quote:
The richest man in America signed a document that could have gotten him hanged, and when someone sneered that he was safe because no one would know which Charles Carroll to come for, he picked up the pen and told the British exactly where to find him.
His name was Charles Carroll, and the colonies were crawling with men who shared it. His own father was Charles Carroll of Annapolis. So when the Declaration of Independence came to him for signing in 1776, a delegate made a cruel little joke. He said Carroll risked nothing by signing. There were so many Charles Carrolls that the King's men would never know which one to hang.
Carroll didn't argue. He leaned over the page and added three words to his signature: "of Carrollton." The name of his estate. His address. He was the only signer in the entire room who wrote down where he lived, and he did it on purpose, so that if the British wanted to come hang the traitor, they would know exactly which door to knock on.
That is who Charles Carroll of Carrollton was.
Here is what makes the moment even sharper. He was not a man with little to lose. He was the single wealthiest man in the thirteen colonies and the largest private landowner among them. While George Washington and John Hancock get talked about as rich men, it was Carroll who topped them all. When he signed, he was wagering the biggest personal fortune in America against a noose.
And he was the last man anyone would have expected to be there at all. Carroll was Catholic. In colonial Maryland, a colony founded as a Catholic refuge that had since turned on its own, Catholics could not vote. They could not hold public office. They could not worship in public. The most educated, wealthiest man in America was, in the eyes of the law, a second-class subject barred from the very government he was helping to create. He had spent seventeen years being educated by Jesuits in France and spoke five languages fluently, and back home he still could not legally cast a ballot.
So he became the only Catholic to sign the Declaration of Independence, putting his name on a revolution that he hoped would build a country with room for men like him. That was its own enormous bet, made by a man the existing system had already shut out.
Then he simply outlived everyone.
Thomas Jefferson and John Adams both died on the same astonishing day, July 4, 1826, exactly fifty years after the Declaration. When they were gone, Charles Carroll of Carrollton was the last living signer left on earth. For six more years he was the final human link to that room in Philadelphia, the last hand that had signed, a living relic of the founding that ordinary Americans traveled to see and shake.
He finally died in November 1832 at the age of ninety-five, fifty-six years after he wrote his address on a treason document and dared the empire to come find him.
The richest man in America. The only Catholic. The last one standing. He had more to lose than any of them, every legal reason to stay quiet, and he signed his full address anyway.
We remember the names we were handed in school. We forget the man who made sure his couldn't be mistaken for anyone else's.
Which Founding Father do you think history shortchanged the most?
Who?mikejones! said:
Who's cutting onions in here
BQ78 said:
After the shot bounced harmlessly off the metal roof the Confederate battery, the stadium DJ played the sound of a breaking car window.
The Machine gun from the Kamikaze aircraft that crashed aboard the US Battleship Missouri.
— Hidden History (@HiddenHistoryYT) June 14, 2026
It is lodged in one of her Quad 40 mm Bofor barrels. pic.twitter.com/vzzuRDUvBe
The Origins of the Rebel Yell 🦉⚔️
— TheRealCherokeeOwl 🦉 (@CherokeeOwl) June 18, 2026
That chilling Confederate battle cry didn’t come from nowhere. Historians trace it to a mix of Southern frontier life: Native American war whoops (Cherokee & others), Scots-Irish Celtic calls, fox hunts, and animal herding yells from… pic.twitter.com/Rw9UnDQmoD
Colonel Herbert Norman Schwarzkopf Sr founded the NJSP and had a son who became a general in the US Army. He had an interesting military career:
— Brosa Parks (@Parabellum2021) June 20, 2026
He graduated from the U.S. Military Academy at West Point on April 20, 1917 (88th out of 139 in his class), just weeks before the U.S.… https://t.co/FdVxGY8Rrx pic.twitter.com/AklUoxOR3D
Quote:
Colonel Herbert Norman Schwarzkopf Sr founded the NJSP and had a son who became a general in the US Army. He had an interesting military career:
He graduated from the U.S. Military Academy at West Point on April 20, 1917 (88th out of 139 in his class), just weeks before the U.S. entered World War I, and was commissioned as a second lieutenant in the Cavalry.
His early cavalry assignment quickly changed when his unit (initially tied to the 18th Cavalry) was converted to the 76th Field Artillery. He deployed to France in May 1918 with the 3rd Infantry Division ("Rock of the Marne") of the American Expeditionary Forces and fought in the Champagne sector (Second Battle of the Marne), Aisne, and Saint-Mihiel offensives.
He was exposed to mustard gas during combat in World War I, which caused lifelong respiratory problems. He received the Purple Heart for his service.
After the Armistice, during the occupation of Germany, his fluency in German (stemming from his heritage) and strong organizational skills led to his assignment as Provost Marshal near Coblenz along the Rhine. In this role, he served as mayor and civil judge in the occupied zone while also working with the Army Transport Service and Graves Registration Service.
He resigned his Regular Army commission as a captain in July 1920 (after a posting as Assistant Provost Marshal at Fort Bliss, Texas, and selection for Border Patrol command in the El Paso District) to better support his family financiallyhis father had become disabled by arthritis. He continued serving in the New Jersey National Guard, rising to lieutenant colonel by 1926 (assigned to the staff of the 44th Division).
Recalled to active duty in September 1940 with the federal induction of the 44th Division, he was promoted to colonel in the Army of the United States and briefly commanded the 57th Infantry Brigade before General George C. Marshall personally selected him in 1942 for a key advisory mission in Iran.
In Iran starting in 1942, he reorganized, trained, and improved the effectiveness of the Imperial Iranian Gendarmerie (national police force), explicitly modeling it after the New Jersey State Police (which he had founded and led as its first superintendent). His efforts helped counter Soviet-inspired separatist movements in Azerbaijan and Mahabad; he was awarded the Army Distinguished Service Medal for this service. He returned to Iran in 1946 as a brigadier general.
In the late 1940s in occupied Germany, he served as Assistant Provost Marshal for the entire U.S. sector (based in the Frankfurt area). He reorganized an ineffective constabulary force, strengthened intelligence controls, and successfully dismantled a multi-million-dollar black market smuggling operation.
His commands included serving as Commandant of the School of Military Government. He also served in Italy as Chief of a Military Assistance Group supporting security for the Marshall Plan under the Atlantic Pact.
In the U.S. Army Reserve, he was promoted to major general in 1954 and appointed commanding general of the 7th New Jersey Reserve Division. He retired in 1957 after roughly 40 years of combined active-duty, National Guard, and reserve service.
Before departing for his critical 1942 Iran mission, he entrusted his West Point graduation saber to his young son (the future General H. Norman Schwarzkopf Jr.), telling him: "I'm placing this sword in your keeping until I come back."
His German language skills and cultural knowledge were repeatedly leveraged as key assets for provost marshal and occupation duties in both world wars. Later in his career (around 1953), he was involved with U.S. intelligence efforts in Iran (including aspects of Operation Ajax), helping organize security forces that influenced the later formation of SAVAK.
THE CHINOOK THEY REFUSED TO LEAVE BEHIND
— Aircraft history junky (@AircraftJunky) June 22, 2026
Most people know the Battle of Takur Ghar for the heroism, sacrifice, and the fierce fight that became known as Roberts Ridge.
Far fewer know the story of the helicopter that survived it.
In the pre-dawn darkness of March 4, 2002,… pic.twitter.com/vaJksChmlf
Chrysler's Highway Hi-Fi, a car record player system offered as an option in their vehicles from 1956 to 1959. pic.twitter.com/bcyeyTNwmT
— Things From the Past (@pastarchive) June 24, 2026
A 1,700-year-old fresco of Christ as the "Good Shepherd" recently discovered in an underground tomb near İznik, Turkey (ancient Nicaea). It dates back to the 3rd century AD, before the cross became the dominant symbol of Christianity. pic.twitter.com/6brvbNagV2
— Historic Vids (@historyinmemes) June 25, 2026
Isaiah Dorman is the forgotten man of Custer's Last Stand, and how he died was as brutal as anything on that field.
— Echoes of War (@EchoesofWarYT) June 25, 2026
He was a Black man, by most accounts born into slavery, possibly to a family named D'Orman in Louisiana, who escaped and vanished into the northern plains. His… pic.twitter.com/V11E0vqhbt
Quote:
Isaiah Dorman is the forgotten man of Custer's Last Stand, and how he died was as brutal as anything on that field.
He was a Black man, by most accounts born into slavery, possibly to a family named D'Orman in Louisiana, who escaped and vanished into the northern plains. His Dakota name was Cetan Sapa, Black Hawk, though the Sioux also called him Azimpi. He cut wood near Fort Rice, lived among the Lakota as a trapper and trader, and married a Santee Sioux woman named Celeste St. Pierre. For two years he carried the mail on a 360 mile round trip between two forts, and the story goes that he had no horse and walked the entire route on foot with the mail in a waterproof pouch and his bedroll over his shoulder. He likely knew Sitting Bull personally. In the spring of 1876 Custer hired him as an interpreter, and Dorman rode back toward the very people he had lived among.
On June 25 he went in with Reno's battalion, and when Reno's charge broke and ran for the bluffs, Dorman was left behind in the valley. By every account he did not go quietly. He fought with a non regulation sporting rifle and dropped several warriors. One Lakota who rode past him remembered it: the Black man's horse had been riddled with bullets and pinned him to the ground, and even then he turned and shot a warrior straight through the heart. A trooper named Roman Rutten galloped past him in the retreat and saw Dorman down on one knee, firing carefully, who looked up and calmly called out "Goodbye, Rutten."
Then the worst of it. Wounded and unable to run, Dorman was taken alive, and the accounts of what followed are sickening. He was set upon and tortured. Women pounded him with stone hammers, slashed him over and over with knives, and shot his legs full of buckshot. His own coffee pot and cup were found filled with blood. A roughly 16 inch strip of skin was cut from his body, dried, and kept by the Lakota as a war trophy for decades, not surrendered until 1932 and now sitting in a North Dakota museum. To them he was not just an enemy, he was a traitor who had turned his guns on the people who had taken him in.
And yet, in the middle of it, there is the moment that has haunted this story for 150 years. Multiple accounts, including the historian Robert Utley's, say Dorman, bleeding badly in the chest, made a final plea in the Sioux language to "my friends," asking that they not count coup on him since he was already a dead man. Sitting Bull himself rode up and said "Don't kill that man, he is a friend of mine." The chief dismounted, poured water into a polished buffalo horn cup, and gave the dying interpreter a last drink. Then he climbed back on his horse and rode on into the battle. It was a reprieve of seconds. A Hunkpapa woman, Moving Robe Woman, finished him with a rifle shot, and others mutilated the body so he would not stand tall against them in the spirit world.
A man who lived between two worlds and was torn apart in the seam between them. Born into slavery, escaped, taken in by the Lakota, married into them, fluent in their tongue, and then killed fighting for the army that came to destroy them, recognized and given water by the most famous chief on the plains in the same hour that other hands flayed him. He was buried near the timber where he fell. 150 years ago today.