Legends of the Old West - MOUNTAIN MEN Ep. 6 | “Jeremiah Johnson: The True Story”

Episode Date: October 16, 2024

In this episode, we attempt to separate fact from fiction and tell the story of the man whose life inspires books and the famous movie “Jeremiah Johnson” starring Robert Redford. The truth is far different from the legend, but it still showcases a life full of adventure.   Join Black Barrel+ for ad-free episodes and bingeable seasons: blackbarrel.supportingcast.fm/join   Apple users join Black Barrel+ for ad-free episodes, bingeable seasons and bonus episodes. Click the Black Barrel+ banner on Apple to get started with a 3-day free trial.   On YouTube, subscribe to LEGENDS+ for ad-free episodes and bingeable seasons: hit “Join” on the Legends YouTube homepage.   For more details, visit our website www.blackbarrelmedia.com and check out our social media pages. We’re @OldWestPodcast on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Intro Liver-eating Johnston never ate a crow warrior's liver. He never ate the liver of a blackfoot warrior or a Sioux warrior. He never ate a human liver at all, but he is still remembered by the Crow as the only white man who would eat raw deer liver with them. By 1884, John Johnston was an old man. He was 60 years old, and many of those years had been spent roughing it through some of the worst winters in the wildest parts of Montana.

Now in 1884, he was slowed by rheumatism and he visited Hunter's Hot Springs between Bozeman and Billings to try to find some relief. A reporter for the Anaconda Standard heard that the famous liver eater was nearby and headed to the Hot Springs to request an interview. The reporter said, "'If you don't object, Mr. Johnson, I'd like you to tell me how you got the name of liver-eating.'" Johnston asked what the reporter had heard about the name.

The reporter had heard, "'In the early days when Johnston was fighting Indians, he thought Indian liver was a great delicacy, and he used to eat them raw. Johnston jumped up and yelled, It's a damned lie. As he paced back and forth, he continued, I know I got that reputation, but ain't so. I'll tell you how it was. Johnston launched into his story, complete with its original, old-timey wording. At the head of the Musselshell River, back in 68, there was 15 of us, and we were hunting and making a wood camp.

We was attacked by engines, and we licked them, licked them good. We killed 36 and wounded 60. We was short of ammunition, and I saw an engine running toward cover, so I threw my gun to Bill Martin and took his knife. I wasn't going to waste no good cartridges on him, for I could lick any engine I could lay my paws on. I was the best shot with a rifle in Montana at the time, but I wanted to save my cartridges. I caught that engine and threw him down. I danced and sang on his body, for that's what they had done to a

party of whites a few days before. I scalped him and danced and sang some more. Then I ran my knife into him and killed him, and part of his liver came out with the knife. Just then, a sort of squeamish old fellow come running up. I waved the knife with the liver on it and cried out, come on and have a piece. It'll stay your stomach till you get home for dinner. Don't want none, says he. Come on, says I. I've had some, and it's just as good as antelope liver. Have a bite. And I kind of made believe to take a bite. Well, he threw up his guts, made believe to take a bite. Well, he threw up his guts, and he always swore after that he seen me tear a liver out of a dying engine and eat it. But that ain't so. But he vowed it was, so I never got rid of the name.

According to the man himself, one of the most well-known nicknames in the history of the West was the result of a macabre practical joke. It's one of the many, many differences between the legend which was mostly put forward by the 1958 book Crow Killer and the Truth. Last episode we unfurled the legend of the Crow Killer, John Johnson, also known as Liver-Eating Johnson and mostly known today as Jeremiah Johnson. In this episode, we'll try to unfurl some of the truth to the extent it's known. It's a frustrating pursuit because virtually everything is in doubt, even the answer to

this fundamental question. What was the guy's real name? From Black Barrel Media, this is an American Frontier series on legends of the Old West. I'm your host Chris Wimmer, and this season we're beginning regular stories of the earliest days of American expansion across the continent. In this series, we'll focus on the lives and legends of mountain men Jedidiah Smith, Hugh Glass, and Jeremiah Johnson. This is episode 6, Jeremiah Johnson, The True Story. In the same interview, Johnson said he didn't settle in Montana until 1862, 15 years after

the Crow Killer book has him discovering the remains of his wife and child. Johnston says he was born three miles outside of Little York, New Jersey, in July of 1824. Maybe it's true, maybe it's not. We have to take his word for it. Researchers know so little of his life that no one can agree on the simple formulation of his name. The most consistent part seems to be his first name, John. Some researchers have suggested his surname might have been Garrison, and that John adapted the last name Johnston when he deserted the Navy.

Whether it was John Johnston, John Garrison or John Johnson, it's doubtful anyone will ever know for sure. And the name most people know him by, Jeremiah Johnson, was created for the 1972 movie starring Robert Redford. Mr. Johnston himself said, Nobody cares what a man's name was before he left home. himself said, nobody cares what a man's name was before he left home. What we do know, because Johnston told several reporters, is that he left home as a teenager and went to sea, working as a whaler on the Atlantic Ocean.

He spent a few years on whaling ships before he joined the Navy, where some records indicate he served on a frigate during the Mexican-American War between 1846 and 1848. Those are the same years that the book Crow Killer has him starting his epic quest for revenge after the death of his wife. As far as anyone can tell, the murder of the wife by Crow warriors never happened. Johnston said his sailing days came to an end when a lieutenant, who was the son of a high-ranking officer, hit one of Johnston's fellow sailors with his sword. Johnston punched the lieutenant and knocked him out. When the lieutenant came to, all the other sailors claimed he had been hit by one of

the ship's spars. The lieutenant couldn't prove he was attacked by Johnston, but he retaliated by denying Johnston shore leave for more than 30 days. The next time Johnston was able to get off the ship, he said he headed away from the ocean and never looked back. So, he didn't step off a boat in St. Joseph as a fresh-faced 19 or 20-year-old kid who was ready to find adventure in the West. He stepped off a Navy ship, probably in California, and hurried away from it as fast as he could. If, as some historians suspect, his birth name was Garrison, this was when he dropped that name and picked up Johnston. Next, he popped up near Sutter's Fort in the California Gold Rush, and this is where the timeline becomes really messy. Maybe he was in the

Gold Rush at the very beginning in the 1840s, but maybe it was in the mid to late 1850s when the glory days of the Gold Rush had already passed, but people were still hoping to strike it rich. Whenever it was, during Johnston's short time as a gold miner in California, he claimed to have engaged in multiple fights with Native American warriors, but he never offered any supporting details. Within a year or two, it became apparent to Johnston that he wasn't going to find his fortune in the California gold fields. With few opportunities to earn his living, Johnston turned his attention to hunting and trapping. But by the time he took

up the mountain man life, the beaver population of North America had all but disappeared. For more than 30 years, American, British, and French trappers had worked every river, creek, and stream in the West. In addition, the market in Europe had changed. Beaver hats were out of fashion and buffalo robes were in fashion. Johnston moved east, over the Sierra Nevada mountains, and into Mormon lands in Utah. Just like Johnston never ate crow liver, he also never ate a blackfoot warrior's leg, even during the strenuous trek over the mountains. Johnston went down to Colorado. He became an expert hunter and showed up at trading posts across the West with mounds of furs

to sell. Sometime in the early 1860s, as the Civil War was beginning in the East, Johnston moved up to Montana territory where gold had recently been discovered. Even there, in a remote part of the continent, the Civil War divided populations. As a podcast network, our first priority has always been audio and the stories we're able to share with you. But at Realm, we also sell some pretty cool merch, and organizing that was made both possible and easy with Shopify. When you think about successful businesses like Allo or Allbirds or Skims, an often overlooked

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your customers are scrolling or strolling. On the web, in your store, in their feed, and everywhere in between. Businesses that sell more, sell on Shopify. Upgrade your business and get the same checkout we use with Shopify. Sign up for your $1 per month trial period at shopify.com slash realm, all lowercase. Go to shopify.com slash realm to upgrade your selling today. shopify.com slash realm. The Spring of 1863 saw a tumultuous transformation in Alder Gulch, Montana. The Gold Rush had attracted men from all over the country.

As the Civil War in the East reached a level of destruction that few had imagined, it stirred up tensions and loyalties among the miners in the West. Staunch supporters of the Confederacy decided to rename their burgeoning town Verena in honor of Verena Davis, the wife of Confederate President Jefferson Davis. The symbolic act was more than just a name change. It was a declaration of their allegiance and a gesture of defiance. Southern sympathizers sent some of their gold to the South to support the Confederate cause. Johnston, a Union supporter, found himself in the minority, and the atmosphere grew increasingly

hostile. Fights broke out in the saloons and on the muddy streets of Verena. Vigilante justice often led to hangings, some of which were performed by Johnston and his Union allies, who were still in the minority. Then the arrival of Northern immigrants from Minnesota and Wisconsin began to tip the scales. As more Union supporters flooded into Alder Gulch, the Confederate sympathizers found themselves increasingly outnumbered. The flow of gold heading down the Bozeman Trail toward the Confederacy began to dry

up. And so were Johnston's gold prospects. Johnston's luck in prospecting was abysmal. He spent months sifting, panning, and mining, and found no gold. Frustrated and disillusioned, he decided to leave Montana. In early 1864, he headed to St. Louis, driven by a renewed sense of purpose to support the Union more directly. On February 23rd, 1864, Johnston enlisted for a three-year term in the Union army.

He was quickly assigned to the 3rd Colorado Cavalry and later the 2nd. He was quickly assigned to the 3rd Colorado Cavalry, and later the 2nd. Johnston, now a formidable mountain man with years of wilderness experience, found military life stifling. He was used to the freedom of the frontier, and he chafed under the constraints of military discipline. Old habits died hard, and just five days after signing up, he deserted his unit, as soon as the $160 enlistment bonus was in his pocket. But it seems like he might have been caught. A few months later, when the rest of his unit moved from St. Louis

to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, Johnston was listed as Awaiting Transportation to Company. That likely meant he was in military jail. He rejoined his unit and was assigned to work as a cook and later a guard. By October 1864, Johnston was back on active duty, serving as a scout for Major General James Blount. He entered regular service just in time to face intense combat. He was injured multiple times in Missouri, suffering gunshot wounds to the left shoulder during the Battle of Westport and a bullet to the right leg at the Second Battle of Newtonia. The injuries sidelined Johnston for the remainder of the war. He spent the following months recuperating and mustered out of service in September 1865. Near the end of his life he would

apply for and receive a small pension due to his wounds. But in the immediate future, with his service done, he headed back to Montana. Johnston found work out of Fort Benton as a teamster for a few months before partnering with another man to make more reliable money as a wood seller. The partner turned out to be a drunk, so Johnston went his own way, but he stayed in the business. He set up a camp near the Mussel Shell River and sold stacks of chopped wood to the steamboats that needed the wood for fuel. Johnston spent the winter of 1867 and the spring of 1868, selling wood on his own, before running into an old friend in the fall of 1868 and launching a joint enterprise.

John X. Beidler, known as X, was a prominent figure in Montana's pioneering history. He and Johnston had worked together as vigilantes before the war, harassing the Confederate sympathizers in the gold fields near Alder Gulch. Beidler became well known for his involvement in dismantling the so-called Plumber Gang, the gang of thieves who were thought to be organized by Montana Sheriff Henry Plummer. John Beidler was a small man in terms of physical stature. He was only 5 feet 5 inches tall, but he was larger than life on the frontier.

Beidler joined Johnston at his wood camp at the mouth of the Mussel Shell. The job of woodhawking was backbreaking work. Wood was sold by The Cord, which was a stack of wood four feet tall, four feet wide, and eight feet long. A steamer on the Missouri River needed 25 to 30 cords of wood per day, which basically meant it burned a small mountain of wood every day. Johnston's firewood operation was one of the few that was so far north on the Missouri River. And when the boats docked near Johnston's camp, they were greeted with a sight you would only find in the west. It would seem crazy to some, but not unusual in the wilderness.

Johnston and Beidler fought the Sioux and the Blackfeet on a fairly frequent basis. When passengers on the riverboat Huntsville steamed up the Missouri and stopped at Johnston's wood camp, they noticed a fearsome sight on the riverbank. On both sides of the landing were rows of wooden stakes, and on each stake was the bleached skull of a Sioux or Blackfoot warrior. As onlookers gawked at the skulls, they noticed Johnston leaning on a crutch with one leg bandaged. Passengers quickly looked away as they further noticed that the only thing Johnston was wearing was an old red undershirt that barely hung down below his hips. The whole view, rows of stakes with skulls and a scruffy, dirty man who was barely clothed,

was a serious welcome to the West moment. But as shocked as they were, it didn't stop the braver and more curious passengers from purchasing skulls from Johnston. There were also scalps and jars of pickled ears on display. And as gruesome as it was, Johnston wasn't alone in offering grisly mementos on the frontier. On the flip side, the steamboats offered Johnston a new thing he'd never seen before. In the spring of 1869, Johnston and Beidler caught a ride up the Missouri on a steamboat. As the boat pushed upstream, the pair of mountain men discovered that it was the captain's

birthday. In celebration, ice cream was prepared for dessert after dinner, and both men had their first taste. Impressed by the frozen delicacy, Johnston asked his friend, where does this stuff come from? Shut up, you fool, Beidler replied. It comes from cans. It was around that time that the notorious Poisoned Biscuits episode supposedly happened. There are several versions of the story of Johnston cooking and leaving poisoned biscuits for hostile Native Americans, but no one can agree which tribe was affected, where it happened,

or who was with Johnston at the time. Along the same lines, it seems like the Crow Killer nickname was a creation of the authors of the book, but Johnston earned other nicknames during his time operating his wood-selling business. The Sioux called him Fire Devil after an incident where they cornered him in his cabin and rained flaming arrows down on it, watched it burn to the ground, and then found out later that Johnston had escaped completely unhurt. Johnston had known he would be a target, so he carefully dug an escape tunnel when he

built the cabin. On another occasion, the Sioux attacked Johnston's wood party. The workers hastily stacked the cords of wood into crude barricades and crouched inside. As the evening wore on, many of the men were injured or dead and ammunition was running low. Johnston told the others to play dead. The Sioux cautiously approached. As the first warrior crawled over the barricade, Johnston leapt to his feet and stabbed the warrior in the face with a knife.

The gruesome death horrified the Sioux. The other mountain men screamed and the warriors fled into the night. Unfortunately for Johnston, despite his hard work and survival of numerous battles with warriors, he was still struggling to make steady money. By the early 1870s, he turned to the trade that was as profitable as it was illegal, bootlegging whiskey. Whiskey Based near Fort Benton, up the river from Great Falls, Montana, Johnston quickly established a thriving whiskey operation. The men who were still trying their luck with beaver trapping or killing wolves became his

regular customers, using Johnston's whiskey to muster the courage they needed to venture into hostile Blackfoot territory. Johnston's own journeys took him frequently across Native lands to carry his whiskey into Canada. Canada achieved independence in 1867, but the new government had yet to establish a strong presence on its western frontier. The whiskey trade was illegal, but Johnston and others found a haven at places like Fort Hamilton, near present-day Lethbridge in Alberta. The fort was nicknamed Fort Whoopup as a reference to the rowdy, drunken nature of the whiskey trade around it, and the lands around Fort Whoopup became known as Whoopup Country. Outposts like Fort Hamilton were soon known as Whiskey Forts,

and John Johnston helped supply them with their favorite beverage. Then in 1872, a man from Fort Whoop Up moved down to Johnston's territory near Fort Benton in Montana, and one of the more colorful episodes of Johnston's life unfolded. colorful episodes of Johnston's life unfolded. Fred White, a successful saloon owner from Fort Whoopup, moved to Fort Benton to replicate his success. White's new establishment quickly flourished and drew customers away from existing saloons. Local saloon keepers were mad about losing business and they concocted a plan to ruin Fred White. To lead the plan, the saloon owners enlisted the services of John Johnston.

In a ruse that was part theatrical and part ruthless, Johnston was dressed up and presented as a prosperous trapper, claiming to have 4,000 Buffalo robes on the way to Fort Benton. Fred White, who was eager to profit, offered Johnston unlimited credit at his saloon. That night, 150 townsmen who were all in on the scheme flooded White's establishment. Johnston ordered drinks for everyone and ran up a massive tab. The ruse ended in a brawl, and the financial damage was worse. The next morning, White discovered the truth. Johnston had no buffalo robes to sell and no way to pay off the credit he had used to

buy the landslide of drinks. Fred White was forced to pack up and leave Fort Benton. The devious plan worked, and Johnston decided it was time to leave the whiskey business. He returned to what he knew best, trapping, hunting and serving as a scout and guide. Johnston's reputation as a reliable guide grew, particularly in South Central and S and south-eastern sections of Montana. In 1874, Johnston, sometimes referred to as Jack Johnston, joined another guide, George Johnson, to escort a group searching for gold in the Bighorn Mountains. According to fellow scout Vic Smith, Johnston's party fought off Indians daily for three months, losing

only one man while inflicting significant casualties on their attackers. Two years later, in the second half of 1876, Johnston signed on as a scout for General Nelson Miles. Despite being 52 years old, Johnston's robust frame and formidable skills made him a valuable asset. After the Battle of the Rosebud and the Battle of the Little Bighorn in June, and then the Battle of Slim Buttes in September, the original three Army columns in the Great Campaign of 1876 retired from the field. General Miles and his column took over. hired from the field. General Miles and his column took over. During one skirmish in December 1876,

Johnston and other scouts were investigating reports of a hostile gathering near the Tung River. They charged a group of Native Americans, but were met with a larger force than anticipated. Johnston and his comrades held their ground until reinforcements arrived. Johnston's involvement continued as their ground until reinforcements arrived. Johnston's involvement continued as Miles' troops pursued the Native Americans through

the harsh Montana winter, enduring blizzards and freezing temperatures. In one of the confrontations that winter, Johnston narrowly escaped death. Johnston was with a detachment that came under heavy fire while it crossed a frozen stream. A bullet passed so close to Johnston that it almost sheared off his long hair. As 1876 passed into 1877, the Army conflict with the Nez Perce took center stage. In the fall of 1877, General Miles, now leading the 7th Cavalry, joined the fray. Johnston continued to serve as a scout, but he often clashed with his superiors. As multiple army columns chased the Nez Perce through Montana, Johnston later told a story about spotting the Nez

Perce and informing a lieutenant, but the lieutenant, out of fear, refused to acknowledge the sighting. Johnston criticized several officers for their cowardice and ignoring his advice, which led to missed opportunities to end the long pursuit. The pursuit finally did end in October 1877 with the capture of the Nez Perce and the famous surrender by Chief Joseph. After the Nez Perce war, Johnston continued scouting for a few years, but his days as an Indian fighter were waning. With the gold fields exhausted and his woodhawking days behind him, Johnston returned to hunting, trapping, and guiding. Despite being approached by dime novel writers, he refused to have his life turned into a book.

He could have had an even more remarkable story than he already did when a Montana newspaper mistakenly reported his death in 1878. General Samuel Sturgis praised the Scouts' invaluable knowledge and fearsome reputation. Sturgis described Johnston as truthful and reliable, even as Sturgis expressed doubt that a man of Johnston's ability had been killed in a simple fight. Sturgis was right to express doubt, because Johnston still had 20 more years of life left in him. As the 1870s came to a close, Johnston continued trapping, hunting, and guiding across the Montana wilderness. However, by his mid-fifties, he was noticeably slowing down.

His hair and beard had grayed, and he walked with a limp due to rheumatism. Seeking steadier work, Johnston tried running a stagecoach line, but eventually found a new calling as a lawman. Johnston's first foray into law enforcement began in late 1881. The Custer County Board of Commissioners appointed him Justice of the Peace for Custer County, Montana, on December 24, 1881. He was stationed in Miles City with his old friend and fellow Army Scout, Sheriff Tom Irvine. Irvine, like Johnston, had served as an independent scout for General Miles

during the Indian Wars. Irvine had become sheriff two months earlier, in September 1881, and Johnston would join his old friend in the sheriff's department a year later. The Northern Pacific Railroad had reached Billings, Montana in August 1882, and Irvine needed a strong presence to handle the railroad crews. Johnston left his position as Justice of the Peace and became a deputy sheriff. While the lawmen were headquartered in Miles City, The nearby town of Colson was the hotbed of lawlessness. There had already been approximately 25 deaths by gunshot in Colson since the town's founding in 1877. It was said of Johnston that he didn't need any weapons to keep the peace.

He would either kick troublemakers or knock them out with a single punch. Johnston's ability to maintain peace resided in his established reputation as an Indian fighter, his fearlessness, and his prodigious strength. Many of the locals in Coulson believed that Johnston was, quote, the strongest man in Montana territory. Even though Johnston had now settled into town life with a regular job, a newspaper noted Johnston's preference for wearing traditional mountain man clothing. Maybe it was his clothing, or maybe it was his age, but in 1884, at 60 years

old, John Johnston's career as a lawman ended when the citizens of Colson, Montana chose not to reelect him as deputy sheriff. With few prospects left in the traditional roles like hunter or prospector, he turned to the new and popular Wild West shows. The name liver-eating Johnston intrigued audiences, leading Thomas Hardwick to recruit Johnston for his show, The Avenging Fury of the Plains. When Hardwick found him, Johnston was farming cabbages on an island in the Missouri River. The offer to join the Wild West show, alongside figures like Curly, Custer's famous Crow Scout, and Calamity Jane, was too good to pass up. Johnston had a significant relationship with the Crow tribe, despite legends portraying

them as his enemies. He had spent months living with the Crow, who named him Black Bear for his size and dark beard. The nickname Liver Eater originated not from violence against the Crow, but from his willingness to eat raw livers of deer and antelope. Johnston's friendly association with the Crow helped him recruit his friends for the Wild West Show, where they reenacted battles, including the Battle of the Little Bighorn for live audiences. The performances ended up contributing to the mythologizing of Johnston's life, with the stories of him waging a personal vendetta against the Crow and killing hundreds of warriors.

Johnston's stint as a Wild West performer was brief. The show collapsed in Chicago, leaving Johnston and others unpaid. He returned to Montana and moved to Red Lodge, where he spent his remaining years. By the late 1890s, arthritis had immobilized him, and he survived on a small military pension and the charity of friends and tourists. Johnston's cabin was given to a poor immigrant family, and it now resides next to the Red Lodge Chamber of Commerce. On December 9, 1899, the Carbon County Democrat reported Johnston's departure for California to enter a soldier's home, as his health had deteriorated significantly.

He died at the Santa Monica Veterans' Home on January 21, 1900, and was buried in the Los Angeles Veterans Cemetery. Fifty-eight years after his death, the book Crow Killer mythologized his life, and 14 years later, the film Jeremiah Johnson, starring Robert Redford, further immortalized his legend. In 1974, two years after the film's release, a group of junior high school students from Parkview School in Lancaster, California led a campaign to relocate Johnston's remains. Their teacher spearheaded the initiative, believing that the famous mountain man's final resting place shouldn't be a few hundred feet from a modern highway.

The students wrote to mayors, governors, congressmen, and senators from Montana and Wyoming, and they raised more than $1,000 to fund the reinterment. Bob Edgar, founder of the old Trail Town in Cody, Wyoming, offered a new burial site. On June 4th, 1974, reporters and spectators gathered as officials exhumed Johnston's remains, which only consisted of a thigh bone, several teeth, and metal buttons from his shirt. The scant remains were placed in a new coffin and flown under guard to Wyoming. In Cody, 1,200 spectators, including Robert Redford, attended the reburial ceremony on June 8,

1974. The event solidified John Johnston's place in Western lore. Robert Redford's presence highlighted the connection between the legendary mountain man and his cinematic portrayal, even if the movie and the books that were used for inspiration bore very little resemblance to Johnston's actual life. But that might have been fitting. John Johnston's real life was still a blend of fact and fiction. The people who knew him didn't know his true name or his full history. The legend became fact, and the legend was printed. John Johnston or John Johnson or John Garrison became a semi-fictional character in the book Crow Killer.

And then another novel about a mountain man became interwoven with the legend of the Crow Killer and liver-eating Johnson for the movie Jeremiah Johnson. Now, nearly 125 years after the real mountain man's death, all the stories are mixed up into one legendary tale. John Johnston's life was marked by constant reinvention. From sailor to prospector to mountain man to scout to lawman and then to cabbage farmer and wild west performer, he navigated an immense amount of change in the American West. He left behind a legacy that blended reality and myth, along with a name that will never be forgotten, whatever it was. We hope you enjoyed the first American Frontier series here on Legends of the Old West. For those of you who are listening in real time, we'll finish the year 2024 with a mini-series,

which was not the original intent. There's a lot going on behind the scenes, and we need to do a shortened series to close the year. Next up will be a three-episode series that is a pseudo-follow-up to the Donner Party story. It's a series of incredible tales of survival in the West. That's next time on Legends of the Old West. Members of our Black Barrel Plus program don't have to wait week to week to receive new episodes. They receive the entire season to binge all at once with no commercials, and they also receive exclusive bonus episodes. Sign up now through the link in the show notes or

on our website blackbarrelmedia.com. Memberships are just five dollars per month. This series was researched and written by Matthew Kearns. Original music by Rob Villeur. I'm your host and producer Chris Wimmer. Thanks for listening.