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7/30/2019 Black Hills Bandit
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The Life and Times
Of the
Black Hills Bandit
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FIRST EDITION
OCTOBER 1980
SECOND EDITION
FEBUARY 1981
STORY BY: ILLUSTRATIONS BY:
Captain David J. Bertholf Captain Darrell G. Martin
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Ellsworth AFB is made up of many different organizations. Each has its own
identity and camaraderie and is proud of what it stands for. But we here at
Ellsworth are more than a group of separate units working toward individual
goals. We're a single entity striving toward the common goal of defense of our
country. As such we all rally to the "Ya-Hoo" of the Black Hills Bandit - the symbol
of excellence representing all the men and women who live and work at EllsworthAFB. The mythical Black Hills Bandit was one of the first settlers in the hills of
Western South Dakota and can still be found today roaming their peaks and
canyons. He was not always known as the bandit you understand, and how and
why he got his name and became the base mascot is the subject of this story.
---The Life and Times of the Black Bills Bandit---
The bandit was born and
raised in a big eastern city. Asa kid he was miserable. The
buildings seemed to close in
around him and everyone was
always in a hurry. Nobody
seemed to enjoy life. He
knew then that this wasn't for
him, but he didn't know what
was. while he was growing
up, the country was alsogrowing. Courageous,
adventurous men were
exploring farther and farther
into the unknown wonders of
the West. They pushed out to the Mississippi and were forging ever westward.
As the frontier was discovered, the settlers moved in to claim homesteads and
start new lives. They were a hardy, resourceful and independent lot who
succeeded despite many adversities.
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The stories of these brave people and the
land they were opening up slowly made
their way back east. They told of hard
times and good times, but mostly they
told of wide open spaces, beauty and
freedom. The bandit heard these Storiesof this place called the West and the
pioneers who were leading the way. He
knew that he had to be a part of it. So,
still a boy, he picked up and waded west.
He didn't know exactly where he was
going or what he was looking for, but his
heart told him he was on the right track.
Those were tough times for the bandit; alone on the trail he often thought that hecouldn't go on, but he knew that he hadn't found what he was searching for.
With fierce determination he continued on; nothing could keep him from his goal.
He reached the Mississippi and was amazed at its beauty and the rich, green river
basin, but this wasn't it. He kept going. He crossed the plains and was
impressed with the wide open spaces, but this wasn't it. He kept going. Finally,
he reached the Dakota
Territory and came to a
place where the grasses
parted and the landbecame barren with
shelves of red and orange.
It was a wild, beautiful
place and he could feel that
he was getting close. Then
he saw on the horizon what
looked like a black wall
rising out of the plains.
The closer he got the fasterhis heartbeat. When he
reached the hills he knew this was it. It was like no place he had ever seen: the
ponderosa pine, the white birch, the sparkling clear lakes and streams, the long
deep meadows, the granite spires; the beauty was endless. From the heights of
the mountains he could see for miles around. Yes, this was it - what later came
to be known as the Black Hills of South Dakota.
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In those early days few had come as far as the hills, but as the years went by more
and more folks settled there. The bandit quietly made his living panning for gold,
and the buffalo provided him almost everything he needed to live. He never hit it
big but he didn't really mind. He liked what he was doing and always did the best
he could. He had a combination of dedication, connivery, spunk and gutsiness
that made him a respected, admired citizen of the hills and the natural leader of
those who lived there.
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The bandit wasn't an angel you understand.
He was a handsome, smooth-talking devil
who had a way with the ladies and thrilled
more than one. He liked a good drink and
could be found pretty regular at the #10
Saloon. The #10 was a popular hangout inDeadwood, the most notorious of the hills'
fledgling towns. One day he realized that
he had taken a particular shine to one
special gal in Deadwood.
There was just something about her. It might have been her golden hair, her
sparkling eyes, her ruby lips, or maybe it was her hourglass figure or her joyful
laughter. Whatever it was, he fell head over heels in love. They had a courtship
like the west had never seen. The bandit, being one heck of a man, swept her
right off her feet and a wedding date was set.
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Now, like anywhere, there were also some
varmints who lived in the area and the
meanest of the bunch was also one of the
richest men around. This old codger had
always had a secret desire for the bandit's
betrothed and decided that now was thetime to go after her. He tried everything
he could, including offering to buy her half
the town; but she loved the bandit and
would have no part of it.
Now, this codger, being the
mean varmint he was, decided
that if he couldn't have her - no
one could. He planned adastardly scheme and hired a couple of villains. Late one dark South Dakota
night, after the bandit had escorted her home, the villains broke into her house,
bound and gagged her, and took her away. No one ever saw her again.
Although he didn't know the details, the ‘bandit knew who was responsible. His
heart was broken, his life shattered, and he went wild with rage.
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The bandit had never been a vindictive man but he wasn't himself anymore. He
vowed to get revenge on that mean, old son-of-a-so and-so. How could he do it?
What meant as much to that varmint as his lost love had meant to him? Aha!
Money. Money and the power it gave him were all that rascal loved and the
bandit decided then and there what he had to do. He'd take that money away,
just like his woman had been taken from him. The bandit left town and took tothe hills. He watched every move that old codger made; knew what he was doing
and when he was coming and going. He knew the time and place of every gold
shipment; the
stagecoaches,
trains and
horseback
riders. He was
determined
that none of itwould get in or
out of town.
The bandit
turned outlaw.
For the next
few years he
robbed all the
gold shipmentshe could. They
tried to track
him down but
he knew every
inch of those
hills and was
always one
step ahead. It
was then thathe became
known as
"The—Black Hills Bandit".
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Finally, the mean old rich
man was no longer rich.
He'd spent what little
money he could get on
tracking down the bandit.
Now it was all gone. Heleft town a broke and
broken man.
The bandit had his
revenge. But he knew in his wrong. By driving that varmint out he had also hurt
innocent people. He could never go back and live in the town again – he was a
bandit. He went back to his old stomping heart he had done hurt innocent town
again - he grounds and lived off the land. Like all outlaws he had earned a
reputation. His escapades became known far and wide. There was always
someone hunting him down, trying to get the best of the bandit. But he was awiley old character and outlived them all.
A lot of
folks have
come andgone
since
those
days and
the
bandit
watched
the hills
area growand prosper. He didn't understand all that was happening but he could see that
the folks living here now were his kind of people. They were tough and
industrious and concerned with the welfare of others. Just like his betrothed of
years ago, he took a liking to all these good, hardworking folks who made their
home in the communities surrounding the Black Hills.
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But the pain of losing her taught him a lesson he will never forget. He knows you
have to fight for what you want. You have to give all you've got and do your best
in order to get what you're shooting for. So, although the bandit still lived alone
back in the hills, he started coming out from time to time. It had to be a special
occasion you understand. The bandit still had some young whippersnappers and
bounty hunters gunning for him and he had to watch his every move. But he
became determined, just as he was on his long trek out here what seems like over
a century ago. He was determined to never give up the struggle for this beautiful
land we live in, a quality way of life and most of all our freedom. He decided to
stand and fight side by side with those who have dedicated their lives to this end.
Nothing could stop him from helping, whenever he could, the cause of
maintaining peace across our great land.
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It was in Deadwood during the
winter of 1976 that the bandit
ran into Lt Colonel Charles A.
Snyder, then commander of the
68th Strategic Missile Squadron.
Lt Col Snyder had beensearching for a mascot to
represent the 44th Strategic
Missile Wing Olympic Arena
Team at the annual SAC Missile
Competition at Vandenberg
AFB, California. It had to be
someone or something that
embodied the insight and
common sense to recognize aworthwhile goal and the
dedication and determination
to do the best they could to
achieve it. As the night went on, they talked about our country, its past, present
and future.
Col Snyder knew that this was the man he’d been looking for. He described
Ellsworth and the Air Force and to the bandit who really didn't understand
missiles or airplanes but he did understand love of our land and the dedication todefend it. When Col Snyder asked him to represent Ellsworth's Olympic Arena
team he jumped at the chance. He vowed to do all he could to encourage and in-
spire those who competed and participated in any endeavor to enhance the
maintenance of peace and freedom in our country.
The Black Bills Bandit, on a cold
South Dakota night in the winter of
'76, struck a deal with Lt Col Snyder
and became the official mascot of Ellsworth AFB.
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SEQUEL
For nearly four years the Black Hills Bandit devoted his life to encouraging the
men and women of Ellsworth AFB to do the best they could at whatever they did.
He worked side by side with the 44 SAW competitors at the annual SAC Missile
Competition, Olympic Arena. He flew with the 28 BMW crews during the annualSAC Bombing and Navigation Competition, Giant Voice. He scrambled with the
Security Police and munitions loading crews at the annual SAC Munitions Loading
Competition, Giant Sword. He not only participated in all the competitive events,
but also made his presence felt during the day-to-day activities throughout the
base. He rose to the challenge of competition while inspiring daily dedication to
excellence. Although the bandit was happier now than he had been since the day
they stole his girl, something continued to nag at him. He still had the cloud of
being an outlaw hanging over his head.
He knew that to do the best he could for Ellsworth and his country; he had to rid
himself of this cloud from the past. His only hope was to see if his friends at the
base could help him. So, in September 1980, he went to see Colonel Richard N.
Schoonmaker, Commander of the 44th Strategic Missile Wing. He explained his
problem to Colonel Schoonmaker, who assured him he would do whatever he
could to help. After all the bandit had done for Ellsworth and the Air Force,
Colonel Schoonmaker wasted no time in deciding what to do.
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He wrote to William J. Janklow, Governor of South Dakota, describing the tale of
the Black Hills Bandit and requesting a pardon on his behalf.
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Governor Janklow, being an understanding and fair man, endowed with common
sense and rugged individualism, typical of all South Dakotans, immediately
recognized the bandit as a good and decent man who more than paid his debt to
society. He decided to grant the pardon and notified Colonel Schoonmaker.
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Governor Janklow then presented the pardon to Colonel Schoonmaker who in
turn presented it to the Bandit.
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The Black Hills Bandit, pardon in hand, now represents Ellsworth with a light heart
and a clear conscience. He is a free man, dedicated to keeping his country free.
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THE END