On Sunday mornings, when I was a kid, I used to sprawl out on the living room floor with the comics that came in the Dayton Daily News. That was after everyone else had been through them. I love that little space filled with comics, and I read just about every one. One of those was called Barney Google and Snuffy Smith.
It is one of the longest-running comic strips in history. It stars Snuffy Smith, a spunky little hillbilly, who lives in the Appalachian town of Hootin’ Holler. He has a very tolerant, loving wife named Loweezy. They have one son, Tater, and their nephew Jughaid.
Barney Google himself was once the star of the strip and a very popular character in his own right. But sadly, he was almost entirely phased out of the feature. The strip began in the 1930s. Barney was officially “written out” in 1954. Truthfully, I think this is where Google got its name.
I tell you all of this because I just read an article about the death of Soapy Smith. Every time I hear about Soapy, it reminds me of Snuffy.
Anyway. Soapy was much different than old Snuffy.
Way back in 1898, Jefferson Randolph “Soapy” Smith met his end in the rough gold rush town of Skagway, Alaska. His killer? A fed-up city engineer named Frank Reid. And it wasn’t exactly a clean break for either of them.
But let’s go back even further to see the whole story.
Born in Georgia in 1860, Smith started out honest enough. He worked cattle in Texas. It was a lot of hard work and not much pay. Then he realized there were easier ways to make a buck. Especially if you didn’t mind bending the truth.
One of his early schemes was pure theater. He buried a ten-foot “prehistoric man” statue outside Creede, Colorado, that he constructed. And then? He “discovered” it days later. People lined up and paid to see the marvel. By the time anyone started asking questions, Soapy was long gone with their money jingling in his pockets.
Then came the soap game. This was the thing that earned him his nickname. He’d sell bars of soap wrapped in blue tissue paper, promising that a few lucky buyers would find a $100 bill hidden inside. Of course, the first “winner” was always one of his own men. The crowd went wild, and the soap sold like crazy.
By 1897, Soapy followed the gold to Alaska. He could just smell the opportunity. He built himself an empire of swindlers, cheats, and pickpockets called “The Committee of 303.” In return, the honest folks of Skagway formed their own “Committee of 101.” I suppose their mission was to push him out.
When Soapy tried to crash one of their meetings on the wharf, things turned ugly. He and Frank Reid exchanged words, then bullets. Soapy died on the spot. Reid died twelve days later.
In a twist of irony, Soapy’s funeral was held in a church he helped fund. The minister read from Proverbs: “The way of transgressors is hard.”
And so it went. The way was hard for Soapy in the end. His end. Conversely, the comic strip featuring Snuffy Smith is still in production and running in newspapers today. Alive and well. I guess crime really doesn’t pay.
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“The trust of the innocent is the liar’s most useful tool.” — Stephen King
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“There is no pillow so soft as a clear conscience.” — French proverb
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“The devil doesn’t come dressed in red. He comes as everything you ever wished for.” — Tucker Max
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