The Real Annie Oakley

T wo years ago, for reasons lost to history, I was compared to Annie Oakley by one of my colleagues. Annie was a favorite historical figure of mine, but I only knew basic information about her life. I asked Charlie Cooke to recommend a good biography of her, but he didn’t know any — and told me I should write one. After thanking him, I promptly forgot the suggestion and went on my merry way. Until recently, that is, when something piqued my interest in her again. If one has the urge to write a book, it behooves her to find all relevant materials on the subject.

God bless my local library. Thanks to it, I was soon in possession of nine books and two DVDs (allegedly) about the famous sharpshooter. I say “allegedly” because Annie Get Your Gun, while full of fabulously catchy music, is terribly inaccurate. Betty Hutton, talented actress though she was, is much too brash and brassy for the role. It’s a pity that Judy Garland was fired from the role (though it was the right decision — she was too unwell to continue).

Starting with the lowest-hanging fruit, I dove into the picture books and a DK biography to refresh my memory of Darke County’s famous female. This time, though, the more I read, the more questions popped up. How much of Annie’s story was true? Often, these books contradicted one another or repeated unverified stories. Now, more than 100 years since her death, how could a reader discern fact from fiction? Unsatisfied with what I’d found so far, I finally turned to an unassuming blue book in my stack by Shirl Kasper, titled simply, Annie Oakley.

Kasper’s thoroughly researched 1992 biography was a breath of fresh air. She understood the challenges that come with writing such a biography and prepared herself well. Focusing her research on newspapers from the era, and using Annie’s scrapbooks and help from various museums, Kasper stitched together a fascinating tale of hard work, talent, and dedication.

The basic facts of Annie’s life are easily mistaken, and Kasper is careful to parse what is real, contrived, or even invented by Annie herself. Born in 1860, Phoebe Ann Moses was the fourth daughter of a poor farmer and his wife who had recently moved from Pennsylvania to Ohio. Though she was christened Phoebe Ann, her family called her Annie, and it stuck. Tragedy and poverty marked much of Annie’s early life, and this colored her later view of money and her professional determination.

Through this book, readers grow with Annie, discovering her character as the story progresses. Her father’s untimely death, her stay on a poor farm and abuse at the hands of an unscrupulous family, her cleverness with a needle and with business — all these are laid out, giving us a full picture of where she started. With this stage-setting, we then understand why Annie and her husband, Frank Butler, were constantly looking for ways to promote her name and earn money.

Kasper, through her thoughtful portrayal, shows readers the various facets of Annie’s character without overcomplicating her. Yes, Annie was focused on money and personal image, but she was decidedly humble, wonderfully friendly, and incredibly talented. In an era of trick-shot performers who sometimes cheated to gain fame, Annie was completely genuine and could prove it. While she was naturally adept at shooting, she was constantly practicing and refining her craft.

Annie’s road to stardom was not an overnight occurrence but something she worked at for years. The Butlers started out touring the amateur circuit and eventually joined up with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. Even then, though, it was some time before Annie Oakley would become a household name. Her skill with a gun combined with a flair for acting put her on the right path, but it was the support of her husband that propelled her forward. A talented gunman in his own right, Frank not only stepped out of the spotlight for his wife, he became her manager and biggest promoter.

There are plenty of myths surrounding Annie’s life, such as the tale that her hair instantly turned white after a train crash later in her career, or that she was terribly injured in that same crash, and Kasper uses contemporary newspaper accounts and common sense to reveal the truth. And while some Annie Oakley myths are outlandish, Kasper finds the grain of truth in others to give readers the fullest picture of this wonderful woman.

The book is filled with fascinating details, many of which answered questions I’d long pondered. The main one: How did Annie (and other sharpshooters of her day) get away with firing guns in crowded arenas? Wouldn’t that pose serious safety hazards? If you’ve never thought about the differences between rifles and shotguns, well, they matter. As Kasper explains:

Another dispute centered on Annie’s use of shotguns in the Wild West arena. Many people who know little about firearms mistook her shotguns for rifles and felt cheated when they learned the truth. After all, rifles fired bullets; shotguns fired shot pellets, more than two hundred of them in a load. Logically, it seemed harder to hit a clay pigeon with a single bullet than with two hundred shot pellets. But there was a very good reason for using shotguns in the arena. They were safer. Rifles could shoot precisely for up to one thousand yards and be dangerous at distances of up to a mile. Shotguns, on the other hand, were short-range weapons, seldom effective beyond sixty yards.

Annie traveled and performed all over the world, but did you know she smuggled her own gun powder into France? In Spain, she was appalled at the poverty she saw in the streets, and she tried to help by often filling a local woman’s basket with food. In addition to her own shooting career, Annie taught around 15,000 women to handle guns and firmly believed that such training was necessary for women. She took great pride in being considered a lady, and Kasper shows readers that Annie didn’t see any contradiction between her views on guns and her views on feminism.

Annie Oakley was a legend, no doubt, and this biography succeeds in strengthening that image. But it does something even more important: It shows us a talented woman who used her skill to bring joy to others. She was known in public and private as a gracious hostess and friend, a philanthropist who quietly sponsored the education of needy young women, and a deeply patriotic American. Kasper doesn’t shy away from Annie’s quirks — her penny-pinching, her obsession with self-image, her unreachable standards for tidiness, her exacting tailoring demands — but they are given the context they deserve.

Annie Oakley was, and to some extent still is, a household name. Her impressive feats are certainly renowned, and it is a delight to read Kasper’s engaging account about this embodiment of the American spirit.