I built this chapter on my Gunsmoke prequel story Go West Young Man about a much younger Doc and a teenage Matt's meeting in what was to become Dodge City, my post Series novel Die a Little, Live a Lot and allusions Doc made to his past throughout the series.

Chapter 2 - From Prison to Freedom

General Lee's surrender at Appomattox on April 9, 1865 brought about more than just the end of the war. Federal troops moving into Richmond, Virginia six days earlier meant the release of the prisoners held at the notorious Confederate prison there, Libby, Dr. Galen Adams, late of the Third Illinois, among them. The first thing the doctor did as soon as he'd filled his belly for the first time in he couldn't remember how long, was locate a telegraph office and wire his sister, Beatrice Hildebrandt and her husband Warren to let them know he was alive and would send his permanent location once he decided upon it.

Doc, as he now liked to be called in deference to the happy time he'd spent before the war in the itinerant frontier community near Fort Dodge, thought about where he might like to settle. There was Baltimore, but the city was too closely aligned with the southern cause for it to be appealing so soon after the South's defeat. Likewise, practicing medicine on the riverboats might not be the most desirable either. He doubted he could be as comfortable on the Tennessee Queen as he'd once been before his tenure in western Kansas. It must not have been as salubrious a sojourn if even then he'd mixed up the name of the city, Memphis, with the state it was in when recalling that boat for his friends.

There was nothing for it. He would head west, after securing some changes of clothing and the latest in medical equipment from his mentor at the University of Maryland in Baltimore, to what he now heard was being called Dodge City in honor of its proximity to Fort Dodge. He told Dr. Eldred Hudkins of his plans, which made the older physician smile and grant his blessings by bestowing free equipment for Doc's medical bag and even a small monetary stake to pay for transportation and lodging along the way to get him started in his practice. Within a week of his release Doc was on a westbound train on his way to resume his frontier life.

The reality was the 41-year-old as of July fifth now much more experienced physician, especially when it came to bullet wounds and diseases of malnutrition brought about by the conditions of war, couldn't reach his destination by train. The Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe Railroad hadn't quite reached Dodge City yet. The closest depot was nearly 100 miles away in Great Bend, but the track between the two Kansas towns was already being laid. He reluctantly transferred to a stagecoach for the two-day journey, which would have taken less than eight hours on a train, even allowing for frequent stops and needing to slow down for expected and unexpected contingencies. The slower stagecoach was more easily beset by road agents, Indians and even weather, but it couldn't be helped if he was to arrive at his chosen destination.

The traveler was spared washed out roads and Indian attack, but he didn't escape being waylaid by a small band of cutthroats just beyond a relay station that was halfway to his final destination. He was forced to give up what money remained from Dr. Hudkins' gift, but was able to convince the outlaws that it would be in their best interest to allow him to keep his medical bag and all it contained. If nothing else, the feisty little man with the mustache could stand his ground when it came to what was really important. Besides, the road agents knew doctors carrying their instruments were a scarce and much needed commodity along this still wild bit of frontier prairie.

Finally, he arrived at the much-changed crossroads in time to witness its first Fourth of July celebration. Still, it was rather pretentious to call the collection of rag-tag wooden buildings and tents arrayed along Front Street and the few cross and parallel streets a city, but that's just what the town's founders and leading citizens claimed in the name they chose, Dodge City. The one brick structure was the jailhouse presided over by City Marshal Josh Stryker and a seemingly rather inept jailer, a tall, skinny fellow with a gimpy right leg by the name of Chester Goode. The general store's clapboard enclosure seemed more substantial than it had been in '55 when he watched an even taller and at the time not quite man named Matt Dillon leave for points south and west. Even as Doc wondered about the youth whose life he'd saved, he noticed the store had a new owner, but the space above the shop was still available to let.

Wilbur Jonas and his wife Ellen had bought the store from the profit they'd made from selling a similar shop in Ohio back in '62 after both their sons were killed at the battle of Shiloh. Little did they know a future US Marshal soon to be headquartered in their town was among those who survived unscathed that western Tennessee battle fought April 6-7, 1862. They were looking forward to the completion of the railway terminus and the anticipated growth of the tiny town it would bring, but were glad to provide rooms for the doctor, even if he arrived short of funds. A professional man could only help the community expand, especially one who was familiar with the challenges of frontier life.

Doc's return after ten years meant the more or less permanent buildings included private homes, a general store, now with his office permanently situated above it, the livery now owned by an older man who found he couldn't remain in Lawrence after Quantrill's bloodbath in '63, Moss Grimack, a hotel named the Dodge House, Delmonico's restaurant, a church and a newly opened bank run by Harry Bodkin. All these businessmen had families. Even many of those who ran the saloons, gambling dens, dance halls and bawdy houses, which ranged from tents with barrel furnishings to structures as finished as the reputable shops, had settled down with their families. Though it was still a bit rough around the edges, the Long Branch, owned by Bill Pence, was now the classiest saloon in town.