DUANE
Duane's take
The official marker on King Fisher is the story I'm about to tell you, and friend, the marker doesn't disappoint. Now, most outlaws who ride hard enough eventually meet one of two ends — a cell or a grave. King Fisher somehow aimed himself at a third option, and for a good long while, it looked like he just might pull it off.
He was born to Jobe and Lucinda Fisher, and by the time he was seventeen years old — seventeen — he had already settled on Pendencia Creek in Dimmit County. Ranchmen hired him to guard their herds from bandits raiding up out of Mexico, across the Rio Grande. That's where a boy either gets eaten by the country or figures out how to become something the country respects.
Fisher figured it out. What he became was, to put it plainly, the undisputed ruler of a five-thousand-square-mile stretch of Southwest Texas, centered on Eagle Pass. People didn't call it Southwest Texas.
They called it King Fisher's Territory. His territory. Those words, on an actual sign near his ranch, tell you everything you need to know about the man's sense of occasion.
The sign read: "This is King Fisher's Road. Take the other." No threats. No explanation.
Just a fact and a suggestion. Now, the marker calls him a complex and forceful individual, and that word — complex — is doing some heavy lifting. His henchmen rustled cattle and terrorized settlers who dared to resist.
That part isn't in dispute. But those same settlers got protection from outside intruders. Order, of a kind, existed in a border area that otherwise had precious little of it.
Whether that bargain was acceptable probably depended on which end of it you were on. And all of this was being conducted by a man who was, by every account, tall, charming, and quite handsome. He wore fine clothes.
He wore tiger skin chaps. He was an expert shot — with either hand. Porfirio Diaz, the President of Mexico, counted him a friend.
Prominent men across the region did the same. Six murder indictments, fifteen lesser counts, and not a single conviction. King Fisher moved through the law the way some men move through a crowd — everybody notices, nobody stops him.
Then came 1876 and Ranger Captain L. H. McNelly.
An arrest has a way of clarifying a man's thinking, and something in that encounter took hold of Fisher. He reformed. He became devoted to his wife and daughters.
And he worked his way, in time, to the position of acting Uvalde County sheriff. The celebrated outlaw, wearing a badge. March 11, 1884.
Fisher traveled to San Antonio. With him was the notorious Ben Thompson. The two men were killed from ambush at a vaudeville theater that night.
No standoff, no duel, no chance — just ambush. The man who posted a sign telling all of Southwest Texas to take the other road never saw the one coming for him.
What the marker says
Celebrated outlaw who became a peace officer. Once undisputed ruler of a 5,000-square-mile area of Southwest Texas, centered in Eagle Pass and known as King Fisher's Territory. Son of Jobe and Lucinda Fisher, at age 17 Fisher settled on Pendencia Creek in Dimmit County, hired by ranchmen to guard their herds from bandits who frequently raided from Mexico, across Rio Grande. A complex and forceful individual, he imposed order in lawless border area. His henchmen rustled cattle and terrorized resisting settlers but also protected them from outside intruders. Near his ranch was sign reading: "This is King Fisher's Road. Take the other". Many prominent men, including Porfirio Diaz, President of Mexico, counted him a friend. Tall, charming, and quite handsome, Fisher wore fine clothes and tiger skin chaps. An expert shot-- with either hand-- he was indicted on six murder charges and 15 lesser counts but was never convicted. Devoted to wife and daughters, he reformed after being arrested in 1876 by Ranger Capt. L. H. McNelly. He was acting Uvalde County sheriff, when, on March 11, 1884, he and the notorious Ben Thompson were killed from ambush at a vaudeville theater in San Antonio. 1973