James M. Redwine

C.E. Redwine

Mr. Thomas, Meet Phil Redwine

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Philip W. Redwine

Dylan Thomas (1914-1953) was a Welsh poet who was imploring his dying father to fight against death. Dylan pleaded with his dad:

“Do not go gentle into that good night. Old age should burn and rave at close of day. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

The bravest fighter against Death I have ever known was my 79-year-old brother, Philip W. Redwine. Death was playing against Phil with a stacked deck but Phil kept drawing to inside straights for 34 years after Death thought it had dealt Phil a losing hand. The ultimate outcome was never in doubt but the timing sure was.

In 1987 Phil had a wife to help support and three young children to rear when, as country singer Tim McGraw sang:

“He was in his early forties (Phil was 44) with a lot of life before him when a moment came that stopped him on a dime.”

The oncologists at Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center in Seattle, Washington told Phil he could die within 4 months but certainly would not live beyond 2 more years. Phil and our sister, Jane Redwine Bartlett, had gone to Seattle so Phil could apply to be a part of an experimental treatment program as Phil’s physicians in Norman, Oklahoma where Phil practiced law told Phil he only had 6 months to live. The Fred Hutchinson medical team apologized to Phil when they told him the cut off age for the experimental treatment study was 40. As Jane reported to our oldest brother C. E. Redwine and his wife Shirley and me, Phil simply responded that the Fred Hutchinson team, “Was not talking to the Phil Redwine who was dying, but to the Phil Redwine who was living and they were going to want him as a model for their study.” He asked them for the treatment even if he was not included in the study. After an overnight meeting Fred Hutchinson agreed to let him try.

So, for 34 years Phil practiced law, supported his family and was deeply involved in giving of his very limited time and limitless talents to his community. He endured chemotherapy, radiation, kidney failure, heart disease and cancer induced diabetes as he gave love and free legal advice to countless family members and friends. Phil could have been the model for the author of the Book of Proverbs. Just a few of the truisms that Phil’s life exemplified are:

Proverbs 13:22            “A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children.”

Proverbs 19:11            “Good sense makes a man slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense.”

Phil would always listen respectfully to another’s point of view and would hear them out completely before agreeing or, gently, disagreeing.

Proverbs 18:2              “A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing his opinion.”

Proverbs 18:13            “If one gives answer before he hears, it is his folly and shame.”

Proverbs 18:15            “An intelligent mind acquires knowledge, and the ear of the wise seeks knowledge.”

When you sought advice from Phil you knew he would carefully consider everything that you said then he would respond wisely and never make you feel lesser. Perhaps his constant companion, Death At Any Moment, guided his thoughts and helped him see others as Ernie Pyle said about soldiers in World War II:

“When you’ve lived with the unnatural mass cruelty that mankind is capable of inflicting on itself, you find yourself dispossessed of the faculty for blaming one poor man for the triviality of his faults.”

And perhaps his own constant vulnerability filled him with a passion to champion those who could not champion themselves. Phil fought the good fight for good causes in and out of court and often at immense cost to himself. He will be greatly missed, but his legacy is long and strong. Well done, Brother, you are my hero.

This picture was taken immediately after Peg finished printing the “Gavel Gamut”. Do you think Phil read this article?

Unpaid Staff

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I have a friend who quite frequently volunteers to help others. He refers to himself and other such generous souls as unpaid staff. Fortunately for those of us who are blessed to live in or visit Osage County, Oklahoma there is a hard-working unpaid staff that helps preserve and promote the historic Constantine Theater. My family benefitted greatly from those efforts a couple of weekends ago when we held our two-day family reunion, jam session, art show and new book launching at the Constantine. We had a great time.

In addition to the volunteers who serve on the Board, there are a few competent and gracious paid staff such as Jennifer Adair and Shannon Martin who do the scheduling and make sure the lights come on. Jennifer’s mother, Linda Hubbard, as well as Jennifer’s daughters, Katie and Grace, also pitched in and helped make the weekend special. One of the unpaid staff, Board Member Cameron Chesbro, not only saw to the myriad technical needs of our diverse musical group he also displayed his own fine musical talents by sitting in as our unpaid drummer. Neither Gene Krupa nor Buddy Rich could have been a better fit.

It was wonderful to see friends, old and new, who took the time to drop in and cheer on our family jam session that included the world premiere of an original song The Redwine Waltz written and performed by C.E. Redwine and Roger Coble. We have a family that includes a few truly exceptional professional musicians, not including Peg and me, and several enthusiastic non-professionals, that is Peg and me. However, everyone dove right in and even some audience members got up and danced in the aisles of the grand ’ole Osage County Opry. Thanks for joining in the fun.

As one who grew up in Pawhuska and attended the Kihekah (Constantine) Theater on a regular basis for numerous community events it felt good to see the old girl sparkle once more. Osage County has many talented and creative people who need a stage to display their gifts to our community. The Constantine has a fine lighting and sound system thanks to the generous support of the contributors and volunteers. The Constantine has even served as a regular venue for feeding the extremely courteous and friendly crew and extras of the Killers of the Flower Moon movie.

Plays, movies, ballets, musical performances, lectures, dancing and numerous other public uses are being made of this one-hundred-year-old, ornate edifice. On mine and the whole Redwine Family’s behalf, several of whom have called Pawhuska their home, thank you to all the staff, paid and unpaid, who helped make our reunion so memorable and so much fun.

By the way, the Constantine is available for use by calling 918-900-6161 or just stop by and speak to the friendly people who are proud to be able to show off the grand old dame.

Sour Grapes

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Painting by Shirley (Smith) Redwine

Aesop (620–564 BC.) was a slave in ancient Greece who told morality tales. Aesop’s fables generally used irony and experiences from everyday life to illustrate their lessons. Negro spirituals provided the same type of psychological relief for slaves in America. Each Fourth of July as we celebrate our country’s freedom from Great Britain in 1776 we honor the principles of democracy handed down to us by those brilliant and courageous ancient Greeks. But the Greeks from c. 2500 years ago and our Founders from 245 years ago were seeking a perfect society, not establishing one.

Athena was claimed to have sprung full-grown from the mind of Zeus and the United States is often claimed to have been born free and equal when we adopted our constitution. However, the goddess of justice and justice in America were ideals not reality. We know there is more work to do and we are doing it. Independence Day celebrations are a good time to reflect on the hard work remaining.

Each Fourth of July our family, probably much as your family Gentle Reader, get together to renew and reminisce. This year we are gathering at the Constantine Theater in Pawhuska, Oklahoma on July 16 and 17 during the wonderful Cavalcade Rodeo event. Shirley (Smith) Redwine has graced our family for well over half a century after she competed as a queen contestant and barrel racer in the Cavalcade. You can see her in the painting she created. You go Cowgirl!

Shirley’s husband and our eldest sibling, C.E. Redwine, is a wonderful professional musician and is coordinating a family jam session at the Constantine. We will have saxophone, ukulele and guitar players of various persuasions as well as singers and talkers. We will not pay you to attend nor will you have to pay to come visit with Pawhuska High School graduates from 1954, 1955, 1960 and 1961 on July 17th from 2-4 p.m.

This same group got together at the Constantine in 2011 when we showed the movie we made of my historical novel JUDGE LYNCH!. That horrific tale of injustice and its brand-new sequel Unanimous for Murder involve the legacy of slavery, segregation and integration in Posey County, Indiana and Osage County, Oklahoma. Those sad stories also involve an Aesop-type irony from 2011. It reminds me of the bittersweet years when we had Colored Folks and White People.

 

When Peg and I wrote JUDGE LYNCH! I borrowed, with his prior permission, the name of one of my childhood friends. Travis Finley is a sports legend, minister and former Pawhuska City Councilman. I used his name for a character in JUDGE LYNCH! When we returned to Pawhuska from New Harmony, Indiana in 2011 to show the movie we made we invited Travis and his wife Edna to attend the premier. As I was up on the stage of the Constantine explaining the book and movie, I looked out in the audience to find Travis and Edna; they were not visible. After my introduction I searched the downstairs of the theater then went to the balcony. There, just the two of them, sat Edna and Travis. I went up to them and said, “What are you doing up here?” They reminded me of what America has been and what it was meant to be when they answered, “When we were kids we weren’t allowed to sit downstairs so now we don’t want to. Besides, you can see better from up here.”

Happy birthday, America. Let’s keep perfecting!

The Good Guys

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Cowgirl Sister Shirley’s Covid-19 Mask

On Saturday mornings at the State Movie Theater in Pawhuska, Oklahoma in the 1950’s you could see a black and white double feature western where the good guys wore white hats and the bad guys wore black masks. The lines were not blurred. Cowboys, good; rustlers, bad. Lawmen, good; bandana wearing holdup men, bad. No mask, good; mask, bad.

Today society has divided into two warring factions that are as defined as those satisfying old movie plots but which are themselves not very satisfying. One group champions masks as proof of one’s concern for others and the other group eschews masks as unnecessary and an infringement on individual liberty. However, most of the members of both groups still view cowboys as the good guys.

In my family we had my mother’s youngest brother, Uncle Bud, a rodeo cowboy who roped calves and steers. He was one of my heroes even though the mean billy goat he used to practice his roping often butted me across the roping arena.

Another of our family’s cowgirl heroines was and is my oldest brother’s wife, Shirley Smith Redwine. Sister Shirley competed in barrel racing, pole bending and flag racing for several years at the International Roundup Cavalcade in Osage County, Oklahoma. Shirley was a member of both the Turley, Oklahoma and Sand Springs, Oklahoma round up clubs and she competed as a queen candidate several times. Shirley’s mother, Esther, designed and sewed Shirley’s fancy outfits and Shirley’s father, Hollis, trained her horses. She competed from age twelve until her freshman year at Oklahoma State University where she met my brother, C.E. Redwine, who managed to win Shirley’s heart with his saxophone and ended her rodeo career.

But Shirley has always remained a cowgirl at heart. She knows right from wrong and has always fearlessly championed the right. Cowboys are supposed to stand up and be counted. Shirley did just that when Covid-19 struck our world. She put her sewing skills to work and made masks for our whole family. Now I do not know how many other cowboys and cowgirls have mounted up to confront ’Ole 19, but I believe true cowboys and cowgirls are not afraid to stand up against any evil. So, cowgirl Shirley, thanks for the masks. Peg and I follow your lead and wear them whenever we go out and about. We do notice there are some folks who do not wear masks. Maybe the rest of the good guys can help get the message out until ’Ole 19 goes the way of the Saturday morning horse operas.

 

Our Best Entertainment

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Many of you have read JUDGE LYNCH!, the historical novel Peg and I wrote about the lynchings of four Black men on the campus of the Posey County, Indiana courthouse in 1878. And several of you even participated in the making of our short movie about the murders. That was our first effort at movie making and probably yours too.

To those of you who volunteered to endure the cold, rain and tedium of my directorial debut, thank you! Please do not forget the compensation you received; wasn’t Shawnna Rigsby’s bar-b-cue good? You might be interested in some of the behind scenes manipulation I engaged in to get my friends to commit suicide, get shot, get chased by night riders on horseback and to even get lynched.

For example, early on I called our sons’s one-time boxing teammate and our good friend, Danny Thomas, and said, “Danny, I need some Black men to shoot and lynch on camera.Would you, your family and friends care to do that?” Danny did not hesitate. Then there was our neighbor, Chuck Minnette, who was minding his own business when I told him he surely must feel depressed and possibly even suicidal. Chuck thought I was kidding until we filmed his suicide scene. The scene involved Chuck firing a pistol with a blank cartridge near his head while my wife, Peg, laid on her back on the floor puffing on a cigar and blowing the smoke up toward Chuck’s face.

Chris Greathouse was called upon to have his neck broken by Danny Thomas and several “soiled doves” played their parts with such enthusiasm I will leave them unnamed. Jerry King generously offered his amazing Pioneer Village for several scenes and Jerry and his wife, Marsha, even donned their costumes of General and Mrs. Hovey. Dan Funk, whose father was a minister, played his preacher part convincingly. Dr. Bill Etherton and his wife, Judy, attended Dan’s frontier church and Dr. Bill along with Nurse Bonnie Minnette attended to “injured” patients.  Through it all the only person who actually knew anything about video cameras, Rodney Fetcher, managed to get the whole nineteen minute movie filmed and, along with Peg, edited. My eldest brother, C.E. Redwine, is a professional musician and he wrote and performed a marvelous score for the film. There were numerous other budding Academy Award winners who contributed time, talent, tips and immense patience; I appreciate you all!

Now, Gentle Reader, you may have noticed that I had little to do with the finished product. But let me suggest the same is often true in other movies where those who get the acclaim may not be those who do the real work. In my defense I just wish to state, “Hey, I wrote the book!”

Anyway, our little movie does tell the horrific story of murdered African Americans by the powerful white community of Posey County, Indiana in 1878 and brings to light the long hidden tragedy. I am proud of our effort and will always treasure the experience. However, it is not JUDGE LYNCH! that is the impetuous for this week’s column but Peg’s and my attempt to research the making of a full-length movie about the infamous Osage Reign of Terror that occurred in Osage County, Oklahoma where I was born.

Author David Grann has written an excellent exposé of the murders of numerous Native Americans of the Osage tribe in Osage County, Oklahoma in the 1920’s and ’30’s. Peg and I were at our cabin in Osage County when the casting call came out for extras for the Martin Scorsese directed film that will star Leonardo DiCaprio and Robert De Niro. While growing up in Pawhuska, the county seat, I often heard whispered rumors of these crimes. Kudos to Grann, Scorsese, DiCaprio and De Niro for having the courage to lift the veil from this great evil.

In preparation for this column Peg and I did go to the Osage County Fairgrounds on Sunday, November 10, 2019 for the advertised casting call for movie extras. Our purpose was to gain information about the making of the movie that we could include in this column. We were met by several extremely polite and pleasant people who were not authorized to answer our questions but they did suggest we might want to experience the casting call process from the inside by filling out applications ourselves. We did so and had an interesting and fun time. Of course, the staff at the door, the numerous tables and chairs, the clear directional signs and the four enclaves of people photographing, taking prospective extras’ measurements and interviewing the hundreds of hopeful locals was just a little different than the process I used for getting actors for JUDGE LYNCH!. My method was pretty much, “You are my friend. I need you to lynch someone (or be lynched), shoot someone (or be shot) or stand out in the cold rain and try to fathom my directions.”

In my opinion Peg is a possible Barbara Stanwyck double and after a beer or two I can find a remarkable resemblance between myself and Robert Redford. Of course, we both have movie experience. herefore, we are excited and waiting by the phone to be discovered. Hey, it happened to Norma Jeane Mortenson didn’t it? And while you may not know it, before Gone With The Wind, Clark Gable worked as an oilfield roustabout in Barnsdall, Osage County, Oklahoma which is the nearest town to our cabin. Can you say kismet? Further, since I am an experienced fellow director, maybe Marty will want another perspective for a scene or two. Next week we may dig a little deeper into the film noir that has Osage County, Oklahoma buzzing.

Keeping the Flame

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C.E., Barbara Joan, Janie, Billy Mike, Susie, Jim

 

My mother’s three brothers and one of her three sisters served in the army in WWII. Uncle Buck flew close order air support of ground combat soldiers, one of whom could have been Uncle Bill. Uncle Bud never saw a shot fired in anger but went where he was told. Aunt Betty was an army nurse.

My two brothers and I served in the military during the Viet Nam War as did my sister Jane’s husband, Bruce. Bruce was stationed in North Carolina and was not sent to Viet Nam. My eldest brother, C.E., is a fine musician and the army decided it needed his saxophone for the U.S. Army Field Band more than they needed his rifle.

My other brother, Phil, is an excellent attorney whom the army ordered into the Judge Advocate Corps as they thought his legal advice was more important to the war effort than his fighting. And for reasons known only to the U.S. Air Force my country determined my supposed linguistic skills were more vital for gathering Intelligence than was my body for cannon fodder.

One of my numerous first cousins, Billy Mike, survived a year in combat in Viet Nam and my son, Jim, earned a Combat Infantryman’s Badge in the Gulf War of 1990-91 and another in the Iraq War in 2006. He also earned a Bronze Medal for service in each war. My son, my cousin and two of my uncles dodged enemy fire while my other uncle, my aunt, my brother-in-law, my brothers and I simply went where we were sent.

Twenty-nine of our presidents served in the military before becoming Commander-in-Chief. Some saw combat, some did not. At least two of our recent presidents actively avoided serving themselves but later, as President, sent others into combat. Abraham Lincoln always dreamed of military action and regretted only serving about one month of non-combat service during the Black Hawk War (May 1832–August 1832). Ironically, he later served as our top non-combat “soldier” during our deadliest war.

These differing military/non-military, combat/non-combat circumstances were brought sharply into focus for me last week when some of my siblings (C.E. and his wife Shirley plus my sister Jane along with my wife Peg) and some of my first cousins (Susie, Barbara Joan, Billy Mike and his wife Annette along with their son Ryan) got together in Canada for our first full blown reunion since the Viet Nam War. The hair may now have a lighter hue but absolutely nothing important inside has changed since we threw firecrackers and climbed on the huge sandstone rocks at Osage Hills State Park in Osage County, Oklahoma over half a century ago.

We each almost instantly realized what a debt we owed to our parents and grandparents for all the times they brought us together at Christmas, the Fourth of July, Labor Day, Thanksgiving, weddings and funerals. The bonds formed in an enchanted childhood not only helped us through these many intervening years although separated by time and space, we found they remain unbreakable even today.

And the strongest bonds were formed by loving relatives who supported those who were strong enough and wise enough to address with action the futility of wars fought for reasons other than national defense or humanitarian necessity.

So, thank you to our ancestors who taught us the value of loving one’s country and one’s family and to those who are keeping the flame burning brightly in spite of time and distance.