Sipsey Street Irregulars: The Mysterious Disappearance of Ray Sutton (Well, maybe not so mysterious after all.)

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

The Mysterious Disappearance of Ray Sutton (Well, maybe not so mysterious after all.)

"On Aug. 27, 1930, Federal Prohibition Agent Ray Sutton filed his routine daily report from his post of duty, Clayton, N.M., to the deputy Prohibition administrator of the Albuquerque, N.M., Office. That would be the last report he ever filed.

By the following evening, when officials became suspicious by Sutton’s failing to file his daily report, a local sheriff searched his room at the Hotel Seaberg in Raton, N.M. The sheriff found Sutton’s personal effects and portfolio records, including his everyday topcoat. Sutton had not checked out of the hotel nor had he been seen there since Aug. 28. . ."

Go here and read the rest. I swear, as Charlie Quintard is my witness, I had nothing to do with it. I wouldn't be surprised if some of Aunt Jenny Brooks' descendants did though.

-- Mike Vanderboegh, III

4 comments:

Anonymous said...: Hmmmm... Reminds me of a certain old gunmaker who made the entire Cheyenne BATF staff disappear out on the prairie in "Unintended Consequences".; January 13, 2009 at 2:26 PM
Anonymous said...: Hmm...Were there any records of any tickets purchased during that day at the Dead Man Holler Tour Office?; January 13, 2009 at 2:36 PM
CCK said...: Two years ago I would have felt bad for his family.

Today I'm glad he disappeared before he had a chance to breed more.

If only we could forward this to all government employees.; January 13, 2009 at 6:16 PM
Anonymous said...: reminds me Steve Earle's Copperhead Road.

Well my name's John Lee Pettimore
Same as my daddy and his daddy before
You hardly ever saw Grandaddy down here
He only came to town about twice a year
He'd buy a hundred pounds of yeast and some copper line
Everybody knew that he made moonshine
Now the revenue man wanted Grandaddy bad
He headed up the holler with everything he had
It's before my time but I've been told
He never came back from Copperhead Road......; January 13, 2009 at 8:37 PM

"Progress made under the shadow of the policeman's club is false progress."

I believe that liberty is the only genuinely valuable thing that men have invented, at least in the field of government, in a thousand years. I believe that it is better to be free than to be not free, even when the former is dangerous and the latter safe. I believe that the finest qualities of man can flourish only in free air – that progress made under the shadow of the policeman's club is false progress, and of no permanent value. I believe that any man who takes the liberty of another into his keeping is bound to become a tyrant, and that any man who yields up his liberty, in however slight the measure, is bound to become a slave. -- H.L. Mencken

"The Fate of Unborn Millions. . ."

"The time is now near at hand which must probably determine, whether Americans are to be, Freemen, or Slaves; whether they are to have any property they can call their own; whether their Houses, and Farms, are to be pillaged and destroyed, and they consigned to a State of Wretchedness from which no human efforts will probably deliver them. The fate of unborn Millions will now depend, under God, on the Courage and Conduct of this army-Our cruel and unrelenting Enemy leaves us no choice but a brave resistance, or the most abject submission; that is all we can expect-We have therefore to resolve to conquer or die." -- George Washington to his troops before the Battle of Long Island.

"We will not go gently . . ."

This is no small thing, to restore a republic after it has fallen into corruption. I have studied history for years and I cannot recall it ever happening. It may be that our task is impossible. Yet, if we do not try then how will we know it can't be done? And if we do not try, it most certainly won't be done. The Founders' Republic, and the larger war for western civilization, will be lost.

But I tell you this: We will not go gently into that bloody collectivist good night. Indeed, we will make with our defiance such a sound as ALL history from that day forward will be forced to note, even if they despise us in the writing of it.

And when we are gone, the scattered, free survivors hiding in the ruins of our once-great republic will sing of our deeds in forbidden songs, tending the flickering flame of individual liberty until it bursts forth again, as it must, generations later. We will live forever, like the Spartans at Thermopylae, in sacred memory.

-- Mike Vanderboegh, The Lessons of Mumbai:Death Cults, the "Socialism of Imbeciles" and Refusing to Submit, 1 December 2008

"A common language of resistance . . ."

"Colonial rebellions throughout the modern world have been acts of shared political imagination. Unless unhappy people develop the capacity to trust other unhappy people, protest remains a local affair easily silenced by traditional authority. Usually, however, a moment arrives when large numbers of men and women realize for the first time that they enjoy the support of strangers, ordinary people much like themselves who happen to live in distant places and whom under normal circumstances they would never meet. It is an intoxicating discovery. A common language of resistance suddenly opens to those who are most vulnerable to painful retribution the possibility of creating a new community. As the conviction of solidarity grows, parochial issues and aspirations merge imperceptibly with a compelling national agenda which only a short time before may have been the dream of only a few. For many Americans colonists this moment occurred late in the spring of 1774." -- T.H. Breen, The Marketplace of Revolution: How Consumer Politics Shaped American Independence, Oxford University Press, 2004, p.1.

Sipsey Street Irregulars

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

The Mysterious Disappearance of Ray Sutton (Well, maybe not so mysterious after all.)

4 comments:

Blog Archive

Followers