Who is Buried in Jesse James' Grave?

Who Is Buried in Jesse James’ Grave?

JESSE JAMES, SHOT IN THE BACK BY BOB FORD.

The Saint Joseph Gazette banner headline read. The outlaw was dead, or was he? Governor Thomas Crittenden smiled. Bob Ford kept his word. Crittenden quickly wrote out a pardon, an agreement he had made with Bob Ford and his brother. Jesse was very much alive; the bullet should have splintered his skull, but instead traveled through and exited from his throat. Frank James arrived and began to devise a plan to keep Jesse alive and out of the way of the law. Frank shot a gang member, then dressed him in Jesse’s clothes. Frank decided the best place to hide Jesse was at their home in Kearney, Clay County, Missouri. He rigged a travois, placed Jesse gently on it, and headed home. “Ma, Ma, Jesse’s been shot!” Frank stopped just as Zerelda came running out the door. They half dragged, half carried Jesse inside. The question was where to hide him until he recovered. They quickly took him out the back door of the small white farmhouse and hid him in the barn. They then went back into the house, cleaned the blood up, so if the law did show, there would be no evidence that Jesse remained alive. Days turned into weeks as Jesse healed. Frank and Zerelda strode into the barn: “Jesse, we have a plan: tonight, you ride Katie, go as far into Texas as you can. Wish there was a better choice, Jesse.” Jesse turned to face Frank and his mother: “I know if I stay here in Missouri, I am a dead man. When I get to Texas, I will send Ma a gray feather. I ain’t got any idea what name I should use.” Frank smiled at his younger brother: “Jesse, have a good life.” Jesse mounted Katie, a beautiful bay mare, and rode into the night. Jesse traveled through Missouri, into Kansas, down through the Oklahoma territory, and into Texas. He saw a saloon in Amarillo, and he stopped. He entered the saloon, sought the barkeep: “Howdy, if you were going to settle here in Texas, where would you go?” The barkeep, a friendly person by nature, replied: “There are plenty of small towns; take your pick. Amarillo is a good place to live.” Jesse thought about it, then smiled the first genuine smile he had ever had. The thought of settling down, starting a ranch, with Zill, his wife. He asked the barkeep if there were any ranches for sale: “The old Dobson place comes to mind; Dobson pulled up stakes about two years ago. Go over to the claims office. I don’t know what Dobson wanted, but the land has good soil for planting and cattle.” Jesse settled on the Dobson place; he needed cattle. He had to decide whether to buy them or steal them. Stealing them seemed a better way. The Circle J ranch began to show profit, as more cattle were added to the Circle J brand.. Sheriff Tom Stone strode toward Mayor Jack Whiting's office. The mayor had been waiting by a window until he saw Tom Stone: “Tom, come in here. Cattle are disappearing from every herd around here. Who owns the Circle J?” Tom Stone thought for a moment: “I think his name is Frank Dalton; he bought the old Dobson place. He has some dubious characters working for him. I been checking the wanted posters, but thus far ain’t nobody matches these men.” Later that day, Tom Stone rode out to the Circle J, climbed up into the rocks, and began to observe a cattle-rustling operation that was robbing ranches from all over the area. Two or three heads from each ranch were not missed. Jesse, the hair on the back of his neck warned him Johnny Law was near. He knew it was time to move on; he had no intention of being caught and hanged as a cattle rustler. Jesse caught a quick glimpse of a figure hiding in the rocks above the Circle J. It was time to pull up stakes and move on. Jesse mounted Katie and, in a blur of hooves, rode away from Amarillo, Texas, although he had no idea where he was headed. Jesse headed south toward Abilene, Texas, hoping his fortunes would change. He rode hard for two days, not knowing if Sheriff Tom Stone had determined who he was. Jesse heard about Abilene, Texas, from several gunslingers. He decided that Abilene was a good place to settle down. He also decided to change his name once again and start over on the side of the law. He was tired of being hunted, shot at and betrayed. He had money to buy a small ranch, and he registered the land under the name J. Frank Dalton. There was not much law west of the Pecos. Jesse was nominated for Sheriff; he thought it was the answer to his problem, unless one of his old friends or gang members recognized him. He was elected Sheriff of Jones County, he sent his mother a gray feather, and he grew into an honest sheriff. He purchased a ranch outside of town, where he purchased cattle. His herd grew until a gang of cattle rustlers arrived. Jesse recognized one of the gang, Matt Hearn: “Jess, is that you under all that hair? We thought you were dead, Bob Ford and his brother got a pardon from Crittenden. Frank was put in jail, cleared his name, and he and you, Ma, live in Oklahoma Territory.” Jesse felt relief that his Ma and brother were safe. “Matt, I am the sheriff here. I go by the name J. Frank Dalton. I think since you recognized me, I'd better leave before someone decides to stretch my neck. I already escaped one hanging; he showed Matt the rope burn marks. Matt stood wide-eyed: “Jess, how did you stay alive?” Jesse turned to face Matt: “I am J. Frank Dalton, sheriff of Abilene, Jesse James died from a bullet wound to the head from that coward Bob Ford. Two days later, at dusk, Jesse rode Katie out of Abilene, heading north once more. He rode Katie into the night, hoping to find a town where he could settle down once and for all. He was tired of running; he wanted peace. He rode into the small town of Granbury, Texas. He rode Katie into town, found an open saloon, the Golden Nugget. He had a beer to rid himself of the dust in his throat. Suddenly, shots rang out, and the sheriff lay dead in the dusty street. Jesse, without thinking, began firing at the men who shot the sheriff. The mayor quickly made him sheriff, J. Frank Dalton was once again on the right side of the law. He decided when he turned one hundred years of age, it was time to tell the truth. He thought about who he should tell his story to. Would anyone believe he was in truth Jesse Woodson James? His whole life was based on lies to keep him alive. He spoke to a journalist, telling him that the man Bob Ford shot was Charlie Bigelow, a man who looked similar to Jesse James. J. Frank Dalton died on August 15, 1951 in Granbury, Texas. At the post-mortem examination, there were found several distinguishing body marks, bullet wounds, and a rope burn around his, a damaged fingertip and severely burned feet. His death certificate was recorded with the name Jess Woodson James, which also appears on his gravestone. DNA testing was done upon exhumation of the burial site of Jesse James at the Mount Olivet Cemetery in Kearney, Missouri. The remains were found to match relatives, leaving no doubt based on scientific findings, those remains were Jesse James’ in Kearney, Missouri. Three of the James brothers pushed to exhume the Granbury, Texas grave, the belonging to Dalton to all for DNA testing. Who is buried in Jesse James’ grave? Was J. Frank Dalton, an impersonator or was he actually Jesse James?