By Clint McElroy
HQ 123 | AUTUMN 2023
Last week I was going through my garage when I came across a beat-up old diary. I remembered that I had purchased it years ago at one of the “Friends of the Library” book sales but had never looked at it closely. On the very first page someone had written, “Diary of Barney Younger.” After reading the diary, I determined that Barney was the long-lost brother of Cole Younger, of the notorious James-Younger Gang who robbed the Bank of Huntington in 1875. While history shows that Cole had three brothers — Jim, John and Bob — there is no mention of a Barney. It seemed I had made a historic find about 19th-century America, and I immediately wrote a letter to the Smithsonian Institute. I’m still waiting to hear back from them, but in the meantime, here are a few excerpts from the diary:
April 17, 1875
Today I took my first steps toward manhood. Schooling just ain’t fer me. Ma and Pa, along with the Missouri Board of Education, agreed with my decision. They said 11 tries at passing second grade was a good effort on my part and I should be proud, or words to that effect. It was more like: “After 22 years we are sick to death of you living under our roof, so GIT.” Look out world, here I come!
May 26, 1875
I finally caught the eye of the most glorious angel the Good Lord ever put on this earth. I was working in my new career as C.S.E. (Chief Spittoon Emptier) at Slouchy’s Saloon when I accidentally slopped a little on the boots of Mafe Curnute, a real cutup and borderline psychopath, who proceeded to strike me about the head and body with a bar stool. After he showed me to the street via the front window, I looked up and there stood Englantine Clatworthy. She was looking right at me as Mafe bludgeoned me while yelling, “I’m gonna murderize you, Barney Younger!” So, now she knows my name!
July 2, 1875
It’s funny how quickly your life can change. My brother Cole came to town to visit Ma and Pa, and he sort of rode over me on his horse. He immediately apologized saying he didn’t recognize me, which was my fault since I didn’t really heal up so good after Mafe walloped me. Cole asked me if I would like to join him in his business, doing something in the banking field. He told me to think about it and give him my answer when he got back from shooting Mafe Curnute in the knee bone. That’s the love of a brother for ya.
Aug. 12, 1875
I have a lot of responsibilities in Cole’s business. I oversee fanning the air around the campfire on “Beans Night.” I am also a big part of his co-workers’ training exercises. At first, I was completely terrified when they took target practice shooting bottles off the top of my head, but now I’m just kinda terrified. But my most important job is tending to the horses while they go into banks for their business meetings. It’s odd, though: they always seem to be in such a hurry after their meetings. They gallop off so fast that I can barely keep up.
Sept. 6, 1875
My goodness, what an eventful day! We had banking business in a really lovely town in West Virginia called Huntington. As the fellas went into the bank for their meeting, I was completely taken in by the charm of the small town. After I hitched up the horses, I decided to take a stroll. As I walked along Huntington’s well-laid-out streets, I met friendly people and saw lots of sights. There was a college named after some law enforcement officer, I believe. As I continued my walk, I began imagining what this town would look like in the future — maybe a riverport over here, a hotel there, a church on that street corner. Right in the middle of town would be a perfect spot for a steak and spaghetti house.
By the time I returned to the bank the fellers and their horses were long gone, and an angry posse was gathering. Soon they jumped on their horses and thundered off, hollerin’ something about the bank being robbed. I couldn’t believe it. No wonder my fellers had high-tailed it out of there — they didn’t want no part of a bunch of bank robbers.
Nov. 8, 1875
I have never regretted my decision to leave my brother’s business and settle down in Huntington. The financial industry is just too cut-throat for me. I haven’t heard from Cole for a couple of months, but I’m sure someday soon he’ll come riding into town for a visit. I sent a letter to the lovely Englantine Clatworthy asking her to move to Huntington and marry me, but she replied that regretfully she was unable to accept my offer. Apparently, she had married Mafe Curnute after falling in love with him while nursing him back to health from his unfortunate knee bone mishap. So, I have thrown myself into my new career. There’s a lot of spittoons that need emptying in this growing town.
- • • • • •
Unfortunately, the rest of the pages of the old diary were too water-damaged to read, caused, no doubt, by the Ohio River flood of 1913. As such, I don’t know what became of ol’ Barney Younger. I can only hope that, unlike his brother Cole, he went on to lead an honest and lawful life. If I ever find out what happened to the “other” Younger brother, I will be sure to let you know in this very magazine.
