As I've written in other blogs, we look back to history and see the old west outlaws as something other than what they really were. We see the glamor and the excitement and think of them as some sort of heroes and celebrities. While it's true that these men and women bandits lead an exciting life and that they were celebrates of their time, they were in no sense heroes and there was no glamor to them at all.

Think about the gangs today and how they have no honor and that is what the old west outlaws were like. So many have studied the likes of Jesse James, Billy the Kid and the Dalton Brothers, to mention a few, and we hold them up to some sort of super human status. But in reality, they were cut troat, back stabbing bad guys who killed people for no reason and who did not care who got in their cross fire during shootouts. Jesse and Frank James shot people and killed them when they were resisted. The James-Youngers of the old west were not the sort that you would want to invite to a party. That's for sure.

But because the events surrounding these lowlifes happened well over 100-years ago, we look back and are excited to read of their exploits. I am the same. I have studied the old west and the lawmen and outlaws that lived then and I too get excited. But we have to understand, they were not super human figures. Face it, they were killed like any other persons. And as far as honor, it was in short supply. Jesse James himself was killed by one of his own gang members to collect the reward on his head.

So, I am dedicating this blog to the people of Northfield, Minnesota who stood up to the gang back on September 7, 1876 and shot the hell out of them in the streets. If your looking for heroes in this story, there you have them. It's too bad, however, that Frank James was never held responsible for his role in murdering a bank employee on that day. Or for any of his other crimes. But remember, he will be judged. And there is a special place on a bench in hell for him.