Charlie's Tokyo West Blog

A Christmas Story -- 12-29-09

I'm a bit late posting this story, but I just got the photos from Akiko Sato, the person who did most of the legwork for this project. 

On December 17, I got an email from Mami Sato (don't know if she's related to Akiko. Don't think so) asking if I would be Santa Claus for her Happy Japan Project's Christmas Party for the mentally challenged children in an institution in Hino, a suburb of Tokyo. Of course I said, yes.

I met Mami earlier this year. She lost her leg below the knee to bone cancer when she was a sophomore at Waseda University. She's since become the record-holder for Paralympic broad jumpers and has represented Japan in the Paralympics. She aims to repeat and go to the Paralympics in London in 2012. She does a lot of volunteer work with children, and the facility in Hino is one of her projects. If you can read Japanese, her blog is at http://blog.livedoor.jp/mami_sato/

Mami Sato speaking to grammar school children

Mami and some of her friends formed the Happy Japan Project, which organized the Christmas Party. On December 23, a national holiday, HJP members met for a Christmas Party at an underground Italian restaurant in Tokyo's Yoyogi district. Each member was asked to bring a gift for the kids costing no more than ¥1,000. Mami said later than nearly 90 gifts came for the children.

I attended that party and modeled my Santa suit.

Charlie and Kazu with a Christmas cake for everyone at the HJP party

Mami and the HJP people entertained the children with Christmas songs (Kazu is a professional singer-songwriter) and games for nearly an hour. Then Santa arrived. Santa does not speak Japanese, so Akiko acted as interpreter and did a great job!!

Then Santa passed out small gifts to every child, many of whom wanted to shake hands with Santa.

Santa reaches into his bag for a present

The children were very excited to meet Santa, but they behaved very well. After the gifts were passed out and everyone joined in singing Silent Night, the children gathered with Santa for a photo op.

Children, HJP members, and teachers from the institution gather around Santa

What a wonderful way to spend Christmas. I'm sure we can do it again next year. Thank you Mami and HJP for the opportunity to share Christmas with these wonderful children.   

New novel in production -- 12-17-09



Robert Hale Ltd, publisher of the Black Horse Western series of hardback westerns, sent word that my novel entitled "The Killing Trail" has started into the production process and is now at the typesetter. The story is a coming of age one about a young boy whose three brothers were killed in a shootout by a shootist named Jesse Carter. The boy, Nat Dylan, vowed to find and kill the man who shot his brothers, but his quest brought him into close contact with Carter and he finds out that Carter is not the kind of man he'd imagined. How does that effect the final shootout? What ends the killing trail?

I'm back -- 12-13-09

I've been out of circulation for some time. Many people know, some don't so I'll give a brief summary of what happened. 

On November 13 at 11:30 or so at night, I got up from my chair in the living room and found that I couldn't seem to get enough oxygen and felt a pain in the middle of my chest. I had not taken my meds for the night so I went into the kitchen to get them. I still could not get oxygen it seemed. I tried deep breathing, but that didn't work. I turned back toward the front room and my vision went tunnel and I felt a buzz like sensation in my head (lack of oxygen). Something's wrong, I told my wife, and sat on the sofa in a cold sweat. The oxygen starvation seemed to relax and the blood drained out of my face. My wife called an ambulance, which came in less than five minutes. The poor ambulance guys (three of them) had to carry me down the flight of 23 stone steps leading to our house. They took me to the Prefectural Emergency Medical Center where the doctors said I had Economy Class Syndrome. Sitting too long in one place, as happens on long international flights, can cause clots to form in the lower legs. Small clots breaking off and going up into the lungs are actually absorbed there. Large ones, however, block the pulmonary arteries and result in embolism. If the arteries are completely stopped, you die. Obviously I didn't.

I was admitted to the hospital where I spent 24 days. I went on blood thinners and anticoagulants. I still take the blood-thinning drug. I still have two clots clinging to the walls of my pulmonary arteries. Eventually, they'll dissolve. I had a filter placed in my inferior vena cava, the large vein that carries blood from the lower body up to the heart and from there into the lungs. The filter will keep large clots from finding their way into my lungs again, so pulmonary embolism is highly unlikely to occur again. 

So, I'm out of hospital, keeping a strict low-sodium diet and trying to lose weight (actually, I weigh 5 kg less now than I did when I went into the hospital). Time will tell.

As you can read below, I've two books coming out soon. A Fistful of Legends, which I helped edit, will present 21 new Western short stories. They're good. The second book is Guns of Ponderosa, a Black Horse Western that will be out in February. Both books are good reading.

Must get to work on mysteries, westerns, and the corporate writing that pays the bills. 

Glad to be back.

GRAB YOURSELF A FISTFUL OF LEGENDS!!







Express Westerns' latest anthology of western short stories, A Fistful of Legends will be available to buy from www.lulu.com and all on-line retailers on 31 January 2010. The ISBN is 978-0-557-19954-9 and the price will be $15.95 (about 10 pounds or 17.50 Euros)



The book has been edited by Nik Morton and co-edited by Charles Whipple. It features an introduction by James Reasoner along with a front and back page cover illustration designed by Jennifer Smith-Mayo, based on an original painting by David McAllister. This is a western title all western fans (and anyone who enjoys a good yarn) will want to buy. The 21 stories on offer will be:



DEAD MAN TALKING by Derek Rutherford



BILLY by Lance Howard



LONIGAN MUST DIE! By Ben Bridges



THE MAN WHO SHOT GARFIELD DELANY by I J Parnham



HALF A PIG by Matthew P Mayo



BLOODHOUND by C. Courtney Joyner



MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE by Gillian F Taylor



BIG ENOUGH by Chuck Tyrell



ONE DAY IN LIBERTY by Jack Giles



SHADOWS ON THE HORIZON by Bobby Nash



ON THE RUN by Alfred Wallon



THE GIMP by Jack Martin



VISITORS by Ross Morton



THE NIGHTHAWK by Michael D George



THE PRIDE OF THE CROCKETTS by Evan Lewis



DARKE JUSTICE by Peter Avarillo



ANGELO AND THE STRONGBOX by Cody Wells



CRIB GIRLS by Kit Churchill



MAN OF IRON by Chuck Tyrell



CASH LARAMIE AND THE MASKED DEVIL by Edward A Grainger



DEAD MAN WALKING by Lee Walker



Discover what it's like to ride with damaged men and sinister night stalkers, tragic doves, plucky homemakers and gun-toting belles. Experience for yourself the harsh reality of birth and death, love and hate, revenge, retribution and robbery. You'll find it all here, penned by a whole posse-full of Western writers old and new.



So what are you waiting for? Saddle up for action and adventure ... and grab yourself A Fistful of Legends!

Guns of Ponderosa on preorder 04-10-09

Hale just sent me the galley proofs of Guns of Ponderosa, and I see that the book is now listed on Amazon in various countries for preorder. Don't know how Gary got so many of his books preordered, but I'm hoping mine gets a few.

For some reasona, you can read the first chapter of the book at www.blackhorseexpress.org. 

Charlie

Story with no name -- 21-10-09

Part 12 – Chuck Tyrell

 

Walt Arnside sat with his back against the bedstead and his chin on his chest. His eyes half closed, he studied the others in the room.

“Look here,” he said, keeping his voice natural and even. “There’s only four of us, and it ain’t like we don’t know one another. And if Scoot’s old grandpa is right and there’s a treasure galleon somewhere south of the border, then the booty’s not gonna be like holding up some Wells Fargo stage. 

Roden watched Arnside closely. If there were anyone in the room to fear, it was Walt Arnside.

Silence filled the room for a long moment. 

“Well, what are you getting at, Straight?” Silas Bartlett sounded garrulous. 

Maybe he was older than I figured, Arnside thought. Age ain’t always a matter of years. 

“I heard a story once,” Arnside said. “An old sailor talking about crossing the Pacific. He said they went ashore on an island called Tano’sasi to fill their water casks. They found gold coins in the coral there. The natives said a large ship struck the reef, ripped its guts out, and sank in deep water outside.” 

“So what?” Zack Roden stared out the window. 

“If Scoot’s treasure ship is the real thing, there will be more gold and silver there than you could ever hope to count in a lifetime.” 

“I’ll say it again, Walter. So what?” 

“So there’s more than enough for all of us. Why are we feuding?” Arnside looked from one face to the next. “Shouldn’t we be doing this thing together?” He swiped a hand across his unshaven jaw. 

“Look. I was marshal in Yuma for a dozen years,” Arnside said. “I’ve ridden into that corner of hell they call the Yuma Desert, chasing men who thought they could escape Yuma Prison. Some did, but none ever escaped that desert.” 

Lola sat with her elbows on the table. She rested her face in her hands, watching Arnside. The years hadn’t been as hard on her as they were on many western women. She still had a spark. A bit of devilment in her eyes. And those eyes held a smile for Walt Arnside. 

Silas Bartlett rested on the other cot. His gunshot wound obviously pained him. His breathing was ragged and his face was white. 

“You gonna make this, Scoot?” Arnside asked. 

“It’s my goldam treasure,” Bartlett rasped. “I’ll goldam see it through.” 

Arnside grinned. “Thought you would,” he said. 

Roden leaned his chair back against the wall. “Just tell us what you’re driving at,” he said. He waved the cocked Colt Navy in his hand. “If I don’t like what I hear, you’re dead.” 

“The map gives a spot in the Yuma Desert,” Arnside said. “It’s a hell of a place. Sand dunes constantly shifting. Wind always blowing. No water. Salt flats that run for miles. Even the lizards climb sticks to keep their feet off the hot sand.” 

“So. What?” Roden ground the two words out from between clenched teeth. 

“So. I’m the only one who knows the desert. Scoot’s the only one with enough money to outfit us good enough to get through it. You’re holding the ace card; you could kill us all and take your chances. And Lola? Well, Lola’s hanging on.” 

Arnside sat up on the bed, ignoring the pain in his gut as best he could. “I say give me and Scoot time enough for our wounds to heal; time enough for Scoot to bankroll us with the right gear; time enough for you, Roden, to go up north to Las Vegas and get us some camels; and time enough for me to plan the ride.”

More Western History -- 15-10-09

 If I'm not mistaken, one of the caves on the butte across from where I took this photo in Salt River Canyon, Arizona, is Skeleton Cave. Here's the story.

In December 1872, Colonel George Crook used Apache scouts to find a cave in Salt River Canyon that was being used by Kwevkepaya to mount attacks on White settlers. On December 28, accompanied by 100 Pima scouts, Captain William Brown led 120 of Crook's men to lay siege on the cave. 110 Kwevkepaya were trapped in the cave, when Brown ordered the soldiers to fire at the roof of the cave, causing rock fragments and lead shrapnel to rain down on the Kwevkepaya. Having nowhere else to go, the besieged gathered around the mouth of the cave, where soldiers (accompanied by Crook) pushed boulders onto them from above, killing 76 of the group. The survivors were taken to Camp Grant as prisoners.

Story with no name -- 07-10-09

The continuing saga of the Story with No Name can be read at this link.

http://lauriepowers wildwest. blogspot. com/2009/ 10/story- with-no-name- part-10.html

Show Low -- is it all a lie? 01-10-09

Right here, from the pages of JoAnn Finney Hatch's book, Lore and Legends, adventure and history in the White Mountains of Arizona, is living proof of the legend -- Show Low got its name from a card game.

Here's the legend.

Corydon Cooley and Marion Clark jointly owned a 100,000 acre ranch that occupied the entire valley currently known as Show Low. The valley began where a stream emerged from a malpais canyon at the pine tree line (mostly junipers in the lower areas) and spread out on both sides of the stream for nearly 10 miles. Sometimes the valley was a couple of miles wide, other times it bottlenecked into malpai gorges. It was a fantastic place to run cattle, and hay grew naturally in the fields along the creek. 

Not many years after the ranch got well started, Cooley and Clark parted company. Legend has it that rather than fight it out at close range with sixguns, the two men decided to play cards to determine who would go and who would stay. As the game drew to a close, Marion Clark supposedly said to Cooley, "Show low and win the ranch." Cooley turned up a deuce of clubs for the win. Clark peacefully went his way. 

Cooley often told the story of the card game. But then he often told stories, many of which were highly embellished versions of the truth. 

True, Cooley named the place Show Low Ranch. But did the name come from the fabled card game? The Chamber of Commerce of Show Low, Arizona, would have you believe so. 

But wait. What was the name of that creek that ran down the middle of Cooley's ranch?

An 1879 map has the stream labelled "Chiloe Creek." 

And in 1851, Franz Huning said the Indians referred to the creek as Shothloo. 

What a tiny bit of imagination it would take to morph Shothloo into Show Low. The card game makes a good story. Corydon Cooley was famous for his good stories. Dick Cooley, biographer and grandson of Corydon, wrote: "I wish you luck . . .since the dearth of accurate information and the separation of fact from fancy in the life of this remarkable man (Cooley) is not a simple task. His own penchant for story telling and humorous embellishments . . . tend to confuse . . . ."

Jo Ann says, "Whatever the facts of the naming of the town of Show Low, the tourists love Cooley's story as much today as they did 100 years ago. The truth of the matter is safely buried under the sands of time, and will never be known. But if you hear a faint chuckle as the 'Show Low Story' is told, don't be surprised. Old Cooley may be having the last laugh." 

Cooley and Clark, immortalized in bronze, play the famous card game. Vandals removed Clark's head. The one in the photo is a temporary replacement until another can be cast. Vandals never cease to amaze me.

Wild Wild West -- 30-09-09

This story from the older sister of a classmate from Show Low, Arizona. Only in the West.

Charlie

Hi Everyone,       Mark was driving 65 mph this morning when a herd of seven elk ran out from over a big hill and they ran right into him.  These are some pictures of the accident this morning.  He was driving from Show Low to Payson at 6:45 am.   All seven elk were killed and two of them were lodged underneath the front of the car when Mark skidded into the side of the mountain and into a ditch.  They were his cushions!  Two elk came up over his hood and smashed into his window and the other three went flying over the car and into the highway.  They had to shut the road down so they could get the elk out of the way.  It looked like a war zone.  There was one male, four females and two calves.   The pictures are very sad to see.    The front and side airbags were deployed and except for a few minor burns and cuts, Mark walked away from this without any injuries.      I was in Show Low when a man called me to tell me that Mark had been in this accident.  Mark’s phone wasn’t working.  He was very nice and had witnessed the accident and he told me that Mark would call me when he got into Payson.  He rode back with the tow truck driver.  This man worked for the Forest Service and he said that he has never, ever, seen anyone kill seven elk with one vehicle and walk away from it.  He told me that Mark holds the record.  I told him that our Lord was driving!   Our Murano did exactly what it was designed to do!     After the accident, Mark said that some of the local hunters came out with trucks and ATV’s & even a tractor with a scoop on it, and they took away all the elk.  At least they are getting some good elk steaks to feed their families.   What was funny was that the Fish & Game people showed up at the scene and gave Mark “elk permits” because they said that the elk were his!  But, of course, he had no way to transport them back home, so they were given to the other people.    Our insurance has been wonderful and we already have a rental car to drive until we get this settled.   When I look at these pictures, I just can’t believe what happened and how Mark just walked away.    Thank you, Lord!     We got a call from the Forest Service guy tonight and he said that they want to do a story about this and it’s supposed to be in the Payson Roundup newspaper too.   I told Mark that God must not be done with him yet!       We’ll keep in touch.   I am sending a second email with more pictures which were taken at the salvage yard.  Couldn’t get them all in one email.       Love you,   Toni