Ironically, one person not shown in that film was Eddie Dean, the man who wrote the song.  Eddie Dean died on March 4. Thanks to CowBoy poet Mickey Dawes for the tributes to Eddie Dean and to Gene Autry.

We call this the Memorial Issue of the Roundup, because all the articles are remembering people who are no longer with us.  Within the last year Cowboy Heaven has welcomed Montie Montana and Roy Rogers, whom we wrote about in issue seven, Gene Autry, and Eddie Dean.  Others with Western credits who  departed in 1998 were Frank Sinatra (Johnny Concho), Lloyd Bridges (High Noon), Roddy McDowell (My Friend, Flicka), and Howdy Doody himself, Buffalo Bob Smith. In addition, a friend you may not have met, Jim Treat, died a few days after I wrote the profile of him on page 3.

A CowBoy Characteristic

CowBoys are sentimental.  They do things like writing poems, singing songs about prairies and ponies and dogies, getting emotional about old movies, and thinking the world would be better if everybody followed a CowBoy Code.

Your editor is that way.  He has a soft spot in his heart for all the stars in CowBoy Heaven (present and future) and devotes quite a bit of space in this issue to one who transcended B movie status to become a multimedia superstar (even before we had words like that).  He gets this attention for the following reasons and many others, some of which we explore beginning on page 6.

He saved Western movies from oblivion, gave Country (hillbilly) music respectability, and created a great museum where generations to come can learn about and appreciate our Western heritage.

He was prominent in so many ways that he may have influenced the popular perception of cowboys more than anyone else in the 20th century.

One of the first things I recall was getting a cap gun, holster, hat, and chaps for Christmas.  I said, “What is it?”

Dad said, “A cowboy outfit.”

I said, “What’s a cowboy?”

Within days I was at the movies watching one kind of cowboy in action.  I don't remember much about the movie, but I know it starred the man whose signature was on my new cap gun and chaps, and I know I commenced a continuing CowBoy quest that day.

Years later the same man said and did some encouraging things about The CowBoy Handbook.

I'm sentimental about Gene Autry.

“It’s as bad as it’s ever gonna be.”  I heard that every day for months when the new Country station started in Lincoln, Nebraska.  We went out to sell advertising, and most of the people  we talked to didn’t know us, didn’t listen to Country music, and didn’t understand why anyone would. (That was before Country was cool.) 

 At day’s end we returned to the station (which was in the country) and Jim Treat told us, “It’s as bad as it’s ever gonna be.”  He was right—about the station and a lot of other things. When retired from broadcasting, he became a fine philosopher.  Few folks know that.  He doesn’t write it down.  But he has a way of getting to the heart of the matter.  When people or countries fight over territory, he says, “If you go back far enough, nobody can prove a clear title to anything.” 

Born on a Southeast Oklahoma farm in The Depression, James C. Treat had the advantages of knowing what it meant to really work to keep food on the table.  That and a year of combat in Korea added to his later appreciation of radio life. 
Jim broke into broadcasting as an engineer, but the lanky, likeable young man found his niche as a salesman, manager, and station owner. 

Along the way that group opened new sources of Country music for listeners in eight states.  In 1985 Jim and his partners sold the last of their stations, and he took up stock market investing, computers, and philosophy.  He does well with all three. 

A fan of John Wayne and Louis L’Amour, Jim Treat has  an I-can-do Buckaroo attitude.  “It’s as bad as it’s ever gonna be” is one example.  Another is when his daughter, Vicki, told him she wanted to be a dental hygenist.  Jim asked what it takes to be one. When she explained the amount of training it took, he said, “Why don’t you be a dentist?”  She did. 

Jim Treat is a friend of yours you probably haven’t met.  He is mainly responsible for The CowBoy Handbook.  I wrote it, and he provided invaluable advice and technical assistance.  He also motivated me to quit rewriting and get the thing done. 

His CowBoy characteristics include a sense of humor, an appreciation of what he has, and an independent attitude.  When he went to vote in Oklahoma, he registered as a Republican, because almost everyone else in the state was a Democrat. 

Charlesa, his wife of 50 years, says he is sweet.  It’s not a word I‘d have used, but I can see how it fits.  His daughter-in-law, Nora, said he is “special.”  That’s a good word, too. 

In The Cowboy Handbook I wrote that Jim Treat “will do to take along."  I’ll say it again. 

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Back in the Saddle Once Again
Mickey Dawes

I can’t believe the sorrow or the sense of loss that day.
When I received the news my friend Gene Autry passed away.

A horse is just a horse they say, and a cowboy never cries.
But the exception to the rule is when your cowboy hero dies.

He stood for what was right and just and never missed the chance,
To help out those less fortunate, no matter what the circumstance.

But what made Gene so special, what set him far apart,
Was that it wasn’t just a role he played, he performed it from the heart.

His acts of kindness were unequaled both on and off the screen,
And when it came to being pals, he’d be the best you’d ever seen.

There’s only one performer honored on the Walk of Fame,
With 5 stars to his credit, and each one bear’s Gene’s name.

You might have known him from movies, baseball, or that special time of
year,
When a red-nosed deer named Rudolph will magically appear.

Someday we’ll be together, though no one knows just when,
And we’ll ride God’s range together, back in the saddle, once again.
 

© 1998 Mickey Dawes.  All rights reserved.

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Eddie Dean, The Golden Cowboy
Mickey Dawes

Eddie Dean 1907-1999

Eddie Dean rode off into the sunset on March 4th, 1999, at the age of 91.

Born Edgar Dean Glosup, Eddie was a successful actor and singer whose melodic voice captured the hearts of millions of “Singing Cowboy” fans all across the world. Dean was famous among the B Western stars as “a clean-livin’, straight shootin’, aw shucks” cowboy. He was a role model for youngsters at Saturday matinees in the 1940’s through the mid 1950s.

Earlier this year, in his classic, understated way, Dean said; “I don’t consider myself a star. I consider myself a human being. I love people. I’ve tried to be a good American.”

Eddie got his start in 1927 while living at the Dallas YMCA and working at a local machine shop. One of his music schoolteachers, Otis Deaton, asked him if he’d like to sing for a living.

Dean began performing in local theaters and soon after joined a western group called the Vaughan Quartet. Members of the group was paid about $6 a day playing in schools and churches while selling songbooks on the side to make ends meet.

Dean went on to sing on network radio in Chicago, including the “Nation-al Barn Dance,” before heading to California in 1937. He appeared in nine Hopalong Cassidy films and sang on the Judy Canova radio show.  He began his career as a singing cowboy in the mid 1940’s. He appeared in sixty feature films including, “Song of Old Wyoming,” “Check Your Guns”, and “Romance of the West”.

Dean was a successful composer as well as an accomplished actor. He co-wrote “I Dreamed of a Hillbilly Heaven” with Hal Southern. That song alone sold more than 10 million copies when it was recorded by Tex Ritter. One of Dean’s other signature songs was “One Has My Name, The Other Has My Heart.”

Eddie is sadly missed by family and friends.

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Memorable Movie Moment (In Old Monterey, 1939) 

“We shall meet, and we shall miss him . . .” 

June Storey sings at a child’s funeral. 
Overcome with emotion, she can’t finish the song. 
The kindly old preacher puts his arm ‘round her shoulder. 
Everyone’s silent, and  the organ plays on. 
Then, from the back of the church comes the strong, reassuring 
voice of Gene Autry to finish the song. 

“We shall meet, and we shall miss him . . .” 

1998 was a big baseball year, and the week of September 27th saw two momentous events take place.  On Sunday the St. Louis Cardinals’ first baseman set the Major League record with his 70th home run.  Friday the Vice President of the American League died at age 91 plus three days. 
Though both events were front page and sports page news, editors felt readers knew Mark McGwire, but they ought to explain just who Gene Autry was.  “Actor,” “songwriter,” “Angels’ owner” were terms used, also “business” and the “400 of Forbes.”  But most often used was the term “Singing Cowboy,” which he had defined and exemplified. 

The newspeople’s task was difficult, because half the country wasn’t born when he cut his last disc, and he made his last movie in 1953.  But there was a time when the name of Gene Autry was known ‘round the world for his movies and songs.  The newspapers tried, and had some of the facts right, but they couldn’t come close to describing the man.  This piece won’t either, but this point of view might help some understand one or two sides of an exceptional man and what he accomplished in a rather short span. 

Once upon a time in a land much like this one, cowboys rode across the silver screen entertaining and inspiring the nation’s youth.  Those movie cowboys were stalwart, intrepid, dauntless, and well dressed.  They rode silver- mounted saddles on magnificent steeds.  They were quick thinking and fast acting.  Handy with fists and guns, they were more than a match for any 
bad guys who came along—individually or in groups. 

The only thing that could vanquish the movie cowboys in the early 1930s was declining box office receipts.  The world was in a Great Depression, the Catholic Legion of Decency was forcing motion picture producers to clean up their acts, and the film business was changing after the recent introduction sound to motion pictures. 

That combination of ingredients (along with several others) brought a new look and sound to Western pictures, and they came from an unlikely source.  A Chicago-based radio singer rapidly became a box office phenomenon and one of the most popular entertainers in the world.  But that’s just part of the story. 

Starting in his grandfather’s church choir at age 5, Gene Autry sang in public for more than 50 years.  He picked up a few coins by entertaining as a youth, and later he really made money at it.  In the 1920s he tried out for the St. Louis Cardinals and got a chance to play minor league baseball.  He chose to keep his job with the St. Louis & San Francisco (Frisco) Railroad. 

He tried out for record companies in New York in 1927 and heard “Get some experience.”  “Learn some yodel songs.” He went back to Tulsa and started singing on the radio as The Oklahoma Yodeling Cowboy.  Again he stayed with the Frisco (he said, “The practice of paying radio talent had not yet caught on in the Southwest”). 

In 1929, just before Wall Street crashed, he started making records in New York.  In December he signed a contract with American Record Corporation.  He recorded under eight different names on many different labels and sounded a lot like Jimmie Rodgers, the #1 record seller. 

Autry finally left the railroad when WLS, “The Prairie Farmer Station,” offered him $35 a week to sing on the radio in Chicago.  There he performed on “The Conqueror Record Hour” sponsored by Sears, Roebuck and on “The National Barn Dance” coast-to-coast.   He also toured region performing, as he had in Oklahoma, and began endorsing merchandise.  The Gene Autry Roundup Guitar in the Sears, Roebuck Catalog included the book, Gene Autry’s Sensational Collection of Famous Original Cowboy Songs and Mountain Ballad, and the book The Art of Writing a Song and How to Play the Guitar by Gene Autry. 

In 1931 he started sounding more like Gene Autry.  He and Jimmy Long recorded a song they wrote, and it sold 30,000 copies—the first month.  When it sold 500,000 copies, ARC gave them a gold record (the first).  When it sold a million, they gave them another one. 

In 1934 “America’s Greatest Radio and Recording Artist” (that’s what it said on the songbook) had another tryout.  This one was on the other side of the country in Hollywood.  He and radio pal Smiley Burnette sang a couple of songs in a Western movie, In Old Santa Fe, with Ken Maynard and George (not yet Gabby) Hayes.  It was essentially a screen test, and they passed. 

The next year Nat Levine, head of Mascot Pictures, decided Maynard was too temperamental and too expensive, so he put Gene Autry in the leading role in the first science fiction serial, The Phantom Empire. 

In his book, Filming the West, Jon Tuska quoted Maurice Geraghty:  “Gene was chosen because his records were selling sensaitonally and Nat Levine was canny enough to capitalize on that.  Nobody, not even Levine, expected Gene to make another picture, although he had a hold on Gene just in case.  As you know, the picture hit big and opened up a whole new era in Westerns, the singing, musical Western.” 

Levine exercised his option, and Autry starred in Tumbling Tumbleweeds.  He also recorded the title song, which sold more than a million records. 
Motion Picture Herald started a box office poll of Western stars in 1936.  Perennial favorite Buck Jones was first.  Another veteran, George O’Brien, was second.  Newcomer Gene Autry was third.  He jumped to first in 1937 and stayed there until 1942. 

Watching cowboy movies was a worldwide phenomenon, and in 1939 Gene Autry toured the British Isles.  His show played to sellout crowds, and in Dublin, Ireland, a crowd of 750,000 people, more or less, gathered in the streets to get a look at him in a parade.   Philip Wrigley was in Britain at the time and was so impressed by the huge crowds that he put Autry back on radio to sell Wrigley’s Doublemint Gum.  The program, “Melody Ranch” ran on CBS for 16 years. 

From 1939 to 1942 Gene Autry was one of the best known, most popular entertainers anywhere.  He was at the top of several professions.  According to publications of the day, he 

• Got more fan mail than any other star (his 50,103 letters in September, 1939, broke the old record by 10,000) 
• Was #1 on the Western box office poll 
• Was #4 on the overall box office poll in 1940 (behind M-G-M heavyweights Mickey Rooney, Clark Gable, and Spencer Tracy and ahead of dozens of the greatest movie stars in Hollywood history), #6 in 1941, and #7 in 1942 
• Had 23,000 fans who signed petitions to get him an Academy Award 
• Was nominated with Fred Rose for an Academy Award in 1941 for writing the song, “Be Honest With Me” 
• Sold more of his radio sponsor’s product than any previous program 
• Sold more records than anyone else, even Bing Crosby 
• Drew more people to personal appearances than “Robert Taylor and Clark Gable combined” 
• Had more requests for public appearances 
• Set rodeo attendance records at Madison Square Garden, Boston Garden, and other big-time venues (he also owned part of the company which produced major rodeos). 
• Had his name on 4,000,000 cap pistols, 4,000,000 sweatshirts, and a bunch of other products 
• Earned $408,000 in 1940 (when Wrigley’s gum, telephone calls, soda pop, and candy bars sold for a nickel and automobiles were less than $1000) and $600,000 in 1941 
• Slept three or four hours a night. 
• Was the only living person with a town named after him.

In 1939 Autry bought 1200 acres in Southern Oklahoma for his rodeo stock.  The Flying A Ranch close to where he spent his first 17 years.  In 1941 residents of nearby Berwyn changed the name of their town to Gene Autry.  Despite published reports to the contrary, he did visit the town several times, most notably on November 16, 1941, when he broadcast his program from there and the name officially changed.  About 35,000 other folks were also there. 

Let me put that another way.  He was almost past draft age, and could have stayed out of the military. And nobody forced him to fly airplanes loaded with fuel and explosives across the world’s tallest mountains into combat zones. 

Gene Autry did have to because of who and how he was.  He even paid for his own flight lessons to upgrade his license just to qualify for flying status. 

After returning from the war, Gene Autry resumed entertaining and also expanded his business enterprises.  When television became a big factor in the 1950s, Gene Autry was there. 

Johnny Western played guitar in Autry’s band in the ‘50s, and he tells stories of huge crowds at places like Toronto and the Minnesota State Fair, crowds like (or bigger than) those of Garth Brooks or The Beatles. 

In the 1960s Autry turned back to baseball.  When the Dodgers left his Los Angeles radio station, he went to the baseball meeting to get broadcast rights for the expansion team which was going to L. A.  He came back with the broadcast rights and the baseball team. 

The Autry Museum of Western Heritage in Los Angeles opened in 1988.  It  may be Gene Autry’s longest lasting legacy, but there are so many to choose from.  We still have access to his movies and records, so in a sense he is gone and yet still with us. 

Life magazine’s year-end issue covered all the prominent people who died in 1998.  It said Gene Autry was successful at everything he did, and his greatest contribution was his “Cowboy Code.”  Life said, “Hollywood hype?  Autry lived it.” 

Like cow-boys of old, some friends got together 
on a grass-covered hillside alongside a long trail 
to say “so long” and tell stories about a departed friend. 
These folks numbered a thousand, and those telling the tales 
included the mayor of L. A., California, movie stars, 
ball players, Joanne and Monte Hale. 
They told humorous stories and ones of compassion 
about an accomplished, astonishing man, 
who was wise, well informed, interested in others, 
respected, successful, and a real baseball fan. 
On that hillside, beside the Autry Museum
they celebrated the life of Gene Autry, an ace. 
They told of his humor and generosity. 
There was plenty of laughter and not a dry eye in the place. 
A former commissioner of Major League Baseball,
two Cass County Boys, Herbert Jefferies, 
and Dale Evans were there.
World War II planes flew over in formation, with one empty spot, 
to salute a departed hero. 
Then, from the museum’s sound system, came the strong, reassuring 
voice of Gene Autry still singing his songs. 

We did meet, and we did miss him, 
and the world’s better off because he was here. 

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Readers of the Purple Sage 

The Book Review department of the Lone Prairie Roundup is now known as “Readers of the Purple Sage.”  We borrowed the name and logo from our favorite bookstore, which was operated by two of our favorite people, Claudia and Tex Hill.  The store is closed, a victim of its own success.  So we’re going to keep the memories warm.  See one of Tex's CowBoy shows, if you get a chance, and click here to visit his Web site. 

Saddle Savvy:  A Guide to the Western Saddle, Dusty Johnson, illustrated by Doug Zender, Saddleman Press, Loveland, Colo., 1999, 22.95. 

Who needs a guide to the Western (stock, cowboy) saddle?  Anyone who is interested in the subject will find something of interest in this one, but for anyone thinking of making a major investment in such a saddle, it’s essential. 
Long-time saddle-making guru Dusty Johnson, known for his articles, book, and video tapes, has put together a book of need-to-know information about Western saddles. 

Dusty starts with the basic ingredients, leather and trees, and goes on to explain every detail of a saddle, each part’s purpose, what to look for, what to avoid.  This easy-to-read, profusely illustrated volume includes appropriate history, physics, chemistry, and anatomy of saddles, horses, and riders.  It turns out that there is more to saddle construction than most folks are aware 
of, and Johnson’s information could help you avoid great harm—to your pocketbook or to your health. 

After thoroughly covering saddles, the book goes on to a chapter on saddle blankets and pads and a chapter on buying a saddle.  Dusty Johnson’s Pleasant Valley Saddle Shop is meticulously neat, organized, and complete.  So is his book. And his Web site at www.pvsaddleshop.com. 

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Price depends on scarcity, condition, and other factors, like any other collectible item. These people are so serious about arcade cards that they put together a fabulous collection, then a book featuring 203 cowboys.  Unless you’re a fanatic, you could go with the book instead of collecting the 
cards.  It has photos, in color, of more than 900 cards.  All your favorites are there.  Gene Autry, Tom Mix, The Lone Ranger, and Roy Roger got three pages each (approximately 12 cards per page) plus bio.  Ashton Dearholt got only one card, as did Lou Gehrig, who was in the 1938 Western, Rawhide.

As a bonus there is a selection of other types of collectible cards.  The fact that the book has two pictures of your reviewer in the appendix had no effect, pro or con, on this review.  It’s an interesting book, and the best thing about it is the photos of the cards and the biographies of the 203 movie cowboys. 
You’ll have to get into some serious collecting before you even see all the cards pictured in this book.  And if you do serious collecting, you really need it.  It’s available by mail from Arcade Cards and More—Book Marketing, P. O. Box 217, Ozark, MO 65721.  Email ozarkhoot@aol.com

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Gaucho Serenade, Republic, 1940.  Buena Vista Home Video, 1998.  66 minutes.

Republic gaveth, and Republic tooketh away.  After 15 years of producing pictures for young people and small theaters Republic sold out to the young medium with the small screen.  Not only did the studio known for its quality production sell its films to television, but it cut them all to 53 minutes and 30 seconds to accommodate TV’s time frame and allow for commercials.

Unlike George Lucas of Star Wars, Republic’s Herbert Yates believed making movies was a business, not an art form, so he did not keep any full-length negatives, or positives, so later generations could see nothing but chopped-up versions.  Later Gene Autry, who was a businessman and an artist, got the rights to all his films, and now Gene Autry Entertainment is in the process of giving back what Republic took away.  With Buena Vista Home Video, the Disney people, the Autry folks are restoring the missing pieces to Gene’s films—things like songs and essential pieces of the plot.  The result is surprising. 

Gaucho Serenade is one of six Autry flicks released in March, 1999.  I had seen it in the TV version and thought it was a nice film with a catchy tune.  The restored version has eight songs by Smiley Burnette, teenager Mary Lee, and the Singing Cowboy himself.  The plot has drawn criticism from people who expect every Western to be like a Bob Steele picture.  One critic 
complained that nobody got on a horse for the first 45 minutes. 

For a while this is more like Bob Hope than Bob Steele  The story could have come from one of the Crosby-Hope Road pictures.  It starts with an plot to kidnap a boy to keep his father from testifying against an evil packing plant owner. Then it introduces our heroes, throws in some mistaken identity, a runaway almost-bride, and a cross-country chase. Pieces of the plot resemble It Happened One Night, Rhythm on the Range, and Smokey and the 
Bandit.  Then it comes to crunch time, and there’s a big gun battle with bad guys on a moving train. 

Since gauchos are Argentinian cowhands, we might expect the film to have somehing to do with Argentina.  It doesn’t. “Gaucho Serenade” was a popular song of the day. Four of the other five restored films in this set are also named after songs:  Back in the Saddle, Bells of Capistrano, Sioux City Sue, and Trail to San Antone.  The other, Melody Ranch, is named for a radio program.  That one is a 77-minute all-star extrtavaganza with  Jimmy Durante, Ann Miller, Mary Lee, Gabby Hayes, and Vera Vague (a comedian featured on Bob Hope’s radio show).  One of its restored scenes has two bad guys hijacking Gene’s radio show and singing a parody of “Back in the Saddle Again.”  What a difference 24 minutes can make. 

Kudos to Karla Buhlman and the Gene Autry Entertainment folks for this continuing project.  And there's more good news.  Six more restorations are in the works. 

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Gene Autry had successes in many areas of entertainment, business, and baseball.  Yet several media memorials emphasized Autry’s “Cowboy Code.”   In its year-end issue Life magazine mentioned all the prominent people who died in 1998.  Under Gene Autry’s picture Life said the Singing Cowboy’s greatest contribution may have been his “Cowboy Code.”  Sports Illustrated printed the “Cowboy Code” itself. 
 
 

Other movie cowboy put out guidelines.   Buck Jones, Tom Mix, Hopalong Cassidy, The Lone Ranger, Red Ryder, and Roy Rogers all had rules for impressionable young fans.  Autry’s was different. 

All the others were lists of things for the youngsters to do or not do, Autry’s was guidelines for the writers, producers and directors who put his pictures together.  He would lead by example. 

The media said the code is from 1939, but, the Orange County Register quoted Autry as telling a reporter in 1987 that the producers, writers, and he came up with the code when he “started making movies.”  That was in 1935, when Westerns were waning, gangsters  were going great guns, and 
many people felt films had too much sex and violence. 

The idea was to do something different—make family pictures in a Western setting. That idea worked.  Gene Autry succeeded Shirley Temple as the top fan mail getter in films, and much of that mail came from mothers of the 9-to-15-year old boys who made up a great portion of his audience.  The mothers appreciated the example he set for their youngsters in his movies. 

The character he played on the screen (who was named Gene Autry) did not smoke, drink, cuss, or shoot first.  He was clean cut, well dressed, and had a nice smile.  He stood for right, justice, and the values which most mothers  hoped their children would adopt. 

Later, critics called the code “Boy Scout-like,” as if there were something wrong with being clean, considerate, and fair.  They implied that traits like honesty and respect don’t apply to adults, and there is evidence that many agree with them.  That’s one reason it was surprising, and encouraging, that the media gave so much attention to Gene Autry’s code. 

Life magazine’s comment on the “Cowboy Code” was, “Hollywood hype?  Autry lived it.” 

Autry told the Register writer, “I always tried to treat everybody right.  I always tried to treat everybody fair.” 

In 1940 director Frank McDonald said, “I think the thing that impresses me most about Gene Autry is his consideration of his fellow workers.  This, coupled with his amazing understanding of the other fellow’s problem, is one of the secrets of his success . . .  I’ve noticed, although he never raises his voice,he somehow manages never to do a thing he doesn’t wish to.  And he never forgets to smile when he’s refusing.  His sense of humor and keen wit make working with him unusually pleasant.” 

Friends and associates say a handshake from Gene Autry was as good as any  written contract and better than most.  The man was a superstar, a Forbes 400 multimillionaire, yet many people commented about how interested he was in other people. 

He was generous.  On a list of show business people who gave to charity, Gene Autry was third at $160 million  That does not include the magnificent Autry Museum of Western Heritage.  Autry’s Foundation paid $54 million for the building, and he gave much more in money, time, art, and artifacts.

Future generations will find out about the West at The Autry.  Gene Autry thought that’s good, and again he led by example. 

You can tell what a boss is like by the attitudes and abilities of people he hires.  Autry hired outstanding people and let them do their jobs.  He was loyal to them.  They were loyal to him. Alex Gordon, Vice President of Flying A Films, started with Aury in 1947. 

Speaking of attitude.  In 1941 at the Boston Garden rodeo, Gene heard his house in California was burning.  He said, “I can’t put it out from here,” and went on with the show. 

45 years later the Angels came within one pitch of the World Series.  Everyone around the team wanted to “win one for The Cowboy.”  When general manager Mike Port told the club owner he could barely stand the pain of the loss, Gene Autry said, “What’s the matter with you?  Aren’t we 
going to play next year?” 

In Field of Dreams James Earl Jones said, “The one constant throughout the years has been baseball.  . . . It reminds us of all that once was good and could be again.”  We can also say that about Gene Autry and the CowBoy Codes. 

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