Joe Paul
Sam Paul and his
oldest son Joe had never been close. Joe spent much of his childhood with his
Uncle Tecumseh, and his Aunt Mary. Joe was close to his two younger brothers,
Bill and Buck though, and my grandfather Bill said that if it weren't for Joe they
would have starved while their father was in prison.
I had only heard part
of this story myself until recent years, because it was considered a scandal in
the family. It wasn't spoken about. But now, the people involved and those that
knew them are long gone, so it probably doesn't matter so much anymore.
I've added to what my
mother told me about these events by reading accounts written by Mike Tower, in
his book, Outlaw Statesman, about
Sam's nephew Fred Waite; by Moman Pruiett in his memoirs, Moman Pruiett, Criminal Lawyer; and by Bill and Cindy Paul in Shadow of an Indian Star, which is written
as fiction but from what I can gather is taken mostly from historical research.
When Sam Paul got out
of prison in 1884 he sent his son Joe to college and then went about the business of
rebuilding his life. By the time Joe returned, Sam had remarried and had regained
his prominence in the community. When Joe began drinking and getting into trouble,
he had several run ins with his father, even to the point of gun fire. Finally
Joe left Pauls Valley and joined his grandfather Smith Paul in California. The
reason is unclear, but there was a rumor that Joe had an affair with his
father's wife, Jennie, and that Sam had threatened to kill him.
Anyway, Joe stayed in
California long enough to get married and have a child. I actually met one of
his great grandchildren last year at a Chickasaw gathering. I'm not sure of the
details, but from what my distant cousin told me, Joe was only married a short
time before he deserted his California wife. Smith Paul also decided to leave
his California family about that time, about 1890, and so they returned to Indian
Territory together.
When Joe returned the
feud between father and son didn't start up again for a while, but when Joe
continued to drink and to get into fights, his father warned him to control himself.
Joe responded by going around town boasting that the next time he saw his
father he was going to kill him, so they both got ready for a show down. There
were at least two encounters between the two, and in one Joe was shot in the
chest. It took several months for him to recover from this injury, but soon
afterwards, he walked into a café where his father was eating and
shot him twice in the back with a Winchester rifle.
According to the
story I was told by my mother, Tecumseh McClure, Sam's older
brother, instigated the killing. She said that she was told by her father that
Tecumseh had Joe worked up into a frenzy over the threat his father posed to
traditional Chickasaw customs, so the murder was actually politically
motivated. Of course Joe may not have needed much encouragement.
My mother also said that
her father didn't blame his brother Joe for what he had done because of the
mistreatment and neglect he had suffered because of their father. Our family
and Joe's were always friends. It was actually a conflict between Joe and
Tecumseh that led to the next family killing.
After Sam Paul's murder
Joe was arrested and sent to Paris, Texas, for trial, but because he and Sam
were both Indians, the court decided it did not have jurisdiction, therefore
Joe returned home a free man. The Chickasaw courts didn't take up the matter
either, further evidence that the murder was politically motivated. Joe Paul
was even appointed as a judge in the Chickasaw court.
During the next three
years Joe led for him a respectable life, he got married to a full blood
Chickasaw lady named Maulsey Stewart, and performed his duties as judge, but
the quick temper that he had inherited from his father caught up with him. One
night he got into an argument with one of his drinking buddies that ended in a
gun fight. Joe was arrested and he spent the night in jail. The next day his uncle
Tecumseh bailed him out and lectured him about his disgraceful behavior. Joe
then slapped Tecumseh in the face and walked off. Two months later Tecumseh's son
Jennison killed Joe in the same café where Joe had killed his father Sam.
Jennison, Tecumseh, and Imon McClure
The Pull-backs were
still in control of the Chickasaw government - in 1884 Tecumseh McClure had
even served as governor - so Jennison was acquitted of Joe Paul's murder, but
he wouldn't remain free for long. Three months after the trial he was found dead
on the railroad tracks, run over by a train.
Moman Pruiett described the incident in his book, Moman Pruiett, Criminal Lawyer. He wrote that he
was playing poker with Jennison McClure until late the night of Jennison's death. At one point in
the evening:
a squatty half breed sidled in. He stood beside the table for several
minutes, watching the play indifferently, before he spoke.
"Bill Paul in town; I just seen him," the half breed said.
The players exchanged significant glances and continued their play. When
the hand was finished Jennison McClure pushed his stack of chips toward Weaver,
who was banking, and arched his eyebrows.
"You quittin'?"
"I go home now," he said.
"It's almost daylight, Mac," Pruiett suggested. "Hadn't
you better play a couple more before you leave?" (Pruiett refers to himself in the third
person in his book)
"I go home now," he repeated.
"Look here, now, Jennison," Weaver said. "It ain't hardly
safe to be runnin' around here in the dark, without knowin' where he is. Why
don't you stick around a little longer. You know damn well he ain't comin' up
here."
"I go home now," McClure said, without changing tone or
expression.
"Pay him off," said Pruiett. "He says he go home."
The squatty informer was already dozing in a chair. New hands were dealt
and McClure walked carelessly out the side door.
"It's getting light, now, as sure as hell," Pruiett observed.
"let's go an' get some breakfast after this hand. How long's Jennison been
gone?"
"Listen!"
"That was a shot!" Pruiett whispered.
There was a short silence, than two more shots. The players glanced
toward the little half-breed Indian, who slouched low in his chair with his
dirty hands folded peacefully across his pot belly. His eyes opened wide and
understandingly. With a significant shrug of his shoulders he closed them again
and began to nod.
"Damn it," Pruiett gritted. "I'm out. If you two fellows
want to play any more it's all right, but I'm quittin'. What the hell's
that?" He jumped and started.
"You're all upset," Weaver laughed. "It's just a train
whistle. It's the mornin' Santa Fe. I'm out too."
"Come on, Shorty; coffee." Pruiett called to the little
Indian. He was close at the heels of the quartet as it reached the bottom of
the staircase which ran up the side of the stone building. A woman hurried up
Paul Avenue from the east, from the direction of the Santa Fe Depot. "Is
Doc Young up here?" she inquired, breathlessly.
"No, he ain't," one of the men said. "What's wrong?"
"The mornin' train just ran over a man," she said. "You
want Doc for professional service, or official service?" Pruiett asked.
Young was the mayor and chief magistrate, as well as the principal M.D.
"It ain't for treatment," she answered. "He's mince meat.
We just want him there for the identification, an' to watch the pickin'
up."
Pruiett describes
walking over to the tracks, seeing the body, and recognizing the shirt
Jennison had been
wearing. Then Jennison's father Tecumseh arrived:
Ex-Governor Tecumseh McClure of the Chickasaw Nation, who was the father
of Jennison McClure who had just been killed, appeared upon the scene, looked
all around and said, "Jennison he's cut up bad. Well, he's all right. He,
Fred Waite, Sam and Joe Paul, all now in Injun's Happy Hunting Ground."
Moman Pruiett tended
to dramatize things. Indian's didn't really talk like that, and they didn't
refer to the after life as the "Happy Hunting Ground" either, but I
wouldn't be surprised if it was true that my grandfather and his brother killed
Jennison McClure. My grandmother always denied it, saying that Bill and Buck were in school at the time in Sherman, Texas, but it would have been possible for them to ride down one day, kill their cousin, and ride back the next. They were loyal to their brother Joe, and revenge was a strong
tradition among the Chickasaw.
Body of Jennison McClure on
Railroad Tracks, 1897
