Dr. George E. Goodfellow, the “Gunfighter’s Surgeon”

Dr. George E. Goodfellow, also known as the "Gunfighter's Surgeon"
Dr. George E. Goodfellow, also known as the “Gunfighter’s Surgeon”

Dr. George Emory Goodfellow (1855–1910) was a renowned physician and surgeon in Tombstone, Arizona, during its 1880s silver-mining boom. Known as the “Gunfighter’s Surgeon,” he settled in Tombstone in 1880, practicing above the Crystal Palace Saloon. A pioneer in trauma surgery, he became the nation’s leading expert on gunshot wounds, performing the first documented laparotomy for abdominal injuries, using sterile techniques like lye soap or whiskey, and developing spinal anesthesia. He treated lawmen and outlaws alike, including victims of the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral aftermath, and served as county coroner, conducting autopsies like Morgan Earp’s in 1882. Goodfellow observed silk’s bullet-resistant properties, influencing later body armor development, though he held no patents. A civic leader, he co-founded local societies, studied Gila monster venom, and mapped an 1887 earthquake rupture. His work in Tombstone (1880–1891) solidified his legacy as a pioneering trauma surgeon and key figure in the town’s history.

Early Life and Education

George Emory Goodfellow was born on December 23, 1855, in Downieville, California, a gold-mining town in the Sierra Nevada. His father, Milton J. Goodfellow, was a mining engineer, and his mother was Amanda Ann Baskin. At age 12, George was sent to Pennsylvania for schooling, later attending the California Military Academy in Oakland. In 1872, at 17, he enrolled at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, where he became the school’s boxing champion. However, his naval career ended abruptly after he assaulted John Henry Conyers, the academy’s first Black cadet, in a hazing incident, leading to his dismissal in December 1872 amid a national scandal.

Undeterred, Goodfellow pursued medicine, studying under his cousin, a physician, and enrolling at the Wooster University School of Medicine (now the College of Wooster) in Ohio. He graduated with honors in 1876. That same year, he married Katherine Colt, cousin of Samuel Colt, the revolver manufacturer whose .45-caliber firearms would later contribute to Goodfellow’s surgical expertise.

Move to Arizona and Early Career

Goodfellow briefly practiced medicine in Oakland, California, before his restlessness led him to Arizona Territory. In 1876, he served as an acting assistant surgeon at Fort Whipple in Prescott, where his father worked for a mining company. He later became a contract surgeon at Fort Lowell near Tucson in 1879 and briefly at Fort Bowie in 1880, though he likely did not participate in Apache campaigns. On September 15, 1880, Goodfellow canceled his Army contract and relocated to Tombstone, Arizona Territory, a silver-mining boomtown founded in 1879 with a population exceeding 2,000.

Role in Tombstone, Arizona

Tombstone, known as “The Town Too Tough to Die,” was a volatile frontier town teeming with miners, outlaws, and lawmen, including Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, and the Cochise County Cowboys. Goodfellow opened his medical practice above the Crystal Palace Saloon, one of the West’s most luxurious establishments, strategically placing him in the heart of the action. Only four of the town’s 12 doctors, including Goodfellow, held medical diplomas, earning him a reputation as a skilled and scientific physician in a region where improvisation often defined medical care.

During the infamous Gunfight at the O.K. Corral, Virgil Earp, serving as Deputy U.S. Marshal and Tombstone City Marshal, was shot through the calf. Dr. Goodfellow, a skilled surgeon known as the “Gunshot Physician,” provided immediate medical care to Virgil. The sources do not provide specific details about the treatment process for this particular wound, but Goodfellow’s general approach to gunshot wounds emphasized sterile techniques, which were innovative for the time. He often cleaned wounds with lye soap or whiskey to prevent infection, a practice that set him apart from many contemporary physicians. Given the nature of a calf wound, Goodfellow likely cleaned and dressed the injury, ensuring it was stabilized to promote healing and prevent complications such as infection. His treatment was successful, as Virgil survived and continued his duties, though he likely experienced lingering effects from the injury.

Virgil Earp 1843 -1905
Virgil Earp 1843 -1905

Two months later, on the night of December 28, 1881, Virgil was ambushed by three men hiding in an unfinished building across Allen Street from the Cosmopolitan Hotel. He was hit in the back and left arm with three loads of double-barreled buckshot from about 60 feet. The injuries were severe, resulting in a longitudinal fracture of the humerus and damage to the elbow, with approximately 20 buckshot pellets lodged near his hip bone and above the groin. Dr. Goodfellow treated Virgil at the Cosmopolitan Hotel, using the medical tools in his bag and additional supplies fetched from the local hospital by George Parsons and another individual.

Goodfellow advised amputation of Virgil’s left arm due to the extent of the damage, but Virgil refused. Instead, Goodfellow performed a complex surgery under challenging conditions, removing more than 3–4 inches (76–100 mm) of shattered humerus bone. The procedure was unable to fully repair the longitudinal fracture or the elbow, leaving Virgil’s arm permanently crippled. Additionally, Goodfellow extracted the buckshot pellets embedded in Virgil’s back and hip area, addressing the risk of infection and further complications. His use of sterile techniques, such as cleaning wounds with lye soap or whiskey, likely played a critical role in preventing sepsis, a common cause of death in such injuries at the time. Despite the permanent disability, Goodfellow’s intervention saved Virgil’s life and preserved his arm, allowing him to later serve as a marshal in Colton, California, using his good arm to handle a gun.

Medical Innovations and Gunshot Wound Expertise

Goodfellow became the nation’s foremost expert on gunshot wounds, earning the moniker “Gunfighter’s Surgeon.” Tombstone’s frequent violence provided ample opportunity to hone his skills. He treated both lawmen and outlaws, including members of the notorious Cowboys like Curly Bill Brocius. His pioneering work included:

  • First Documented Laparotomy: On July 4, 1881, Goodfellow successfully performed a laparotomy—small incisions to treat abdominal gunshot wounds—on a miner shot nine days earlier, a procedure that became the standard for such injuries. He emphasized that without surgery within an hour, victims of .44 or .45-caliber abdominal wounds faced certain death due to hemorrhage.
  • Sterile Techniques: Goodfellow insisted on cleaning wounds with lye soap or whiskey, a practice ahead of its time when many surgeons ignored sterile protocols. His methods improved survival rates and contrasted with the unsanitary care that led to President James Garfield’s death from a gunshot wound in 1881.
  • Perineal Prostatectomy: In 1891, while in Tucson, Goodfellow performed the first documented perineal prostatectomy to remove an enlarged prostate, a significant urological advancement. He completed 78 such operations with only two deaths.
  • Spinal Anesthesia: He pioneered spinal anesthesia by mixing cocaine with spinal fluid, injecting it into the spine to numb patients during surgery, a technique rare in the frontier.

As county coroner, Goodfellow conducted autopsies, including Morgan Earp’s after his 1882 assassination. His report detailed the bullet’s path through the left kidney, spinal column, and great vessels, causing fatal hemorrhage. His dark humor was evident in reports, such as describing a corpse as “rich in lead, but too badly punctured to hold whiskey” or ruling a lynching victim’s death as due to “emphysema of the lungs” caused by strangulation.

Notable Incidents and Community Involvement

Goodfellow’s practice extended beyond gunshot wounds. During the June 1881 Tombstone fire, he reconstructed George W. Parsons’ nose, deformed by falling wood, using a wire framework, refusing payment for the service.

He was a civic leader, co-founding the Tombstone Club, a reading society, and the Tombstone Scientific Society. He invested in the Huachuca Water Company, which built a 23-mile pipeline to Tombstone. His naturalist pursuits included studying Gila monster venom, debunking myths about its lethality by surviving a self-induced bite in 1891, and publishing findings in Scientific American.

In 1886, Goodfellow joined the pursuit of Geronimo after the Apache leader’s escape from the San Carlos Reservation, later befriending him and winning a $20 bet by testing Geronimo’s silent arrow-shooting technique. In 1887, he led a relief effort to Bavispe, Sonora, after a devastating earthquake, earning the title “El Santo Doctor” and a horse from Mexican President Porfirio Díaz. With photographer Camillus S. Fly, he mapped the earthquake’s surface rupture, publishing the first such map in North America in Science.

Later Career and Life

In 1891, Goodfellow moved to Tucson after his friend Dr. John C. Handy was fatally shot, taking over Handy’s practice and becoming chief surgeon for the Southern Pacific Railroad. He performed Arizona’s first appendectomy that year. His wife, Katherine, died in 1891, leaving him with their daughter, Edith (born 1879); their son, George Milton, died in 1882. Goodfellow remarried Mary Elizabeth before March 1906.

In 1898, he served as a civilian surgeon in the Spanish-American War, leveraging his Spanish fluency to negotiate a peace settlement in Cuba, earning a Distinguished Service Order. After the war, he practiced in San Francisco, becoming a leading physician. In 1910, while working as chief surgeon for the Southern Pacific Railroad in Mexico, he contracted multiple neuritis, likely from overwork or exposure, and died in Los Angeles on December 7, 1910, at age 54.

Legacy

Dr. George E. Goodfellow’s 11 years in Tombstone (1880–1891) cemented his reputation as a pioneering trauma surgeon and scientist. His innovations in laparotomy, sterile techniques, prostatectomy, and spinal anesthesia were decades ahead of their time, earning him recognition as the first civilian trauma surgeon. His work on silk’s bullet resistance foreshadowed modern body armor. The University of Arizona School of Medicine honors him with the George E. Goodfellow Society. Despite personal flaws—hard drinking, womanizing, and a pugnacious temperament—Goodfellow’s contributions to medicine and Tombstone’s history remain legendary.

Sources:

  • Didusch Museum, “A Truth Stranger Than Fiction: The Life and Times of Dr. George Emery Goodfellow”
  • True West Magazine, various articles
  • Sharlot Hall Museum
  • DeGruyter Brill, “Bulletproof Silk: Observations of Dr George E. Goodfellow”

Lees Ferry Campground

Nestled within the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area, Lees Ferry Campground is a scenic, primitive campground located on a bluff overlooking the Colorado River, just 1.5 miles from the historic Lees Ferry boat launch in Marble Canyon, Arizona. Situated about 42 miles from Page, AZ, and 125 miles north of Flagstaff, this first-come, first-served campground offers 54 designated campsites suitable for tents, trailers, and RVs up to 30 feet, with no hookups available. Each site features a picnic table, fire ring with grate, and many include shade structures to provide relief from the desert sun, as there is no natural shade. The campground, open year-round, charges $26 per site per night (as of January 2025), with a discounted rate of $13 for holders of the America the Beautiful Senior or Access Pass.

Amenities include clean flush toilets, potable water spigots (though occasionally turned off during cooler months), and an RV dump station located about 0.75 miles away. There are no showers, but coin-operated showers are available at Marble Canyon Lodge, approximately 5 miles away. Grills are provided, but open ground fires are prohibited outside of grates, and quiet hours are enforced from 10 PM to 6 AM. A gas station, store, and post office are conveniently located in Marble Canyon, just 5 miles from the campground. The sites are slightly unlevel, and tent campers are advised to bring extra stakes or ropes due to frequent windy conditions, especially in the afternoons.

The campground’s prime location offers stunning views of the Colorado River, Vermilion Cliffs, and surrounding red-orange rock formations, making it a haven for stargazing and photography, particularly at night under clear desert skies. Its proximity to the river allows easy access to fly fishing (license required), hiking, and boating activities, with the Lees Ferry boat ramp serving as the starting point for Grand Canyon rafting trips. Nearby trails, such as the River Trail, Paria Riffles, and Cathedral Wash, offer opportunities to explore the area’s geology and spot wildlife like bighorn sheep. The historic Lees Ferry crossing, used from 1872 to 1928, and remnants like the Old Mormon Fort are within walking distance, adding a layer of historical intrigue.

Ideal for adventurers seeking a no-frills camping experience, Lees Ferry Campground is a gateway to the slot canyons, desert ridges, and waters of Lake Powell. Its serene atmosphere and million-dollar views make it a favorite, though arriving early is recommended to secure a spot, especially during peak spring and fall seasons when the weather is most favorable.

Julia Thomas


Julia Thomas (c. 1862–1917) was a pivotal figure in the enduring legend of the Lost Dutchman’s Mine, a tale of hidden gold in Arizona’s Superstition Mountains, inextricably linked to the German prospector Jacob Waltz (c. 1810–1891). While Thomas’s life intersected with Waltz’s during his final days, her role in popularizing the myth of his lost mine cemented her place in American frontier history. This biography explores her life, her connection to Waltz, and her contributions to the legend, drawing on historical accounts while acknowledging the speculative nature of some details.

Early Life and Background

Little is documented about Julia Thomas’s early life, but historical records indicate she was born around 1862, possibly in the United States, and was described as a woman of mixed racial heritage, sometimes referred to as a “quadroon” in contemporary accounts. By the late 1880s, she had settled in Phoenix, Arizona Territory, where she operated a bakery and confectionery shop. This business was her primary source of income, and as a woman proprietor in the late 19th century—particularly one of color—she stood out as an uncommonly independent figure in a male-dominated, racially stratified society.

By 1891, Thomas was navigating personal challenges, including a divorce, which likely strained her financial stability. Her bakery, while a testament to her entrepreneurial spirit, was not enough to shield her from the economic precarity of the time. It was in this context that her path crossed with Jacob Waltz, a reclusive German immigrant and prospector whose reputed discovery of a rich gold mine would define Thomas’s legacy.

Connection to Jacob Waltz

Photograph take of Jacob Waltz after his arrival in New York.
Photograph take of Jacob Waltz after his arrival in New York.

Jacob Waltz, often called the “Dutchman” (a misnomer derived from “Deutsch,” meaning German), was a prospector who arrived in Arizona in the 1860s. By the 1870s, he was known for periodically appearing in Phoenix with high-grade gold ore, the source of which he guarded jealously. In February 1891, a devastating flood along the Salt River destroyed Waltz’s homestead, leaving the aging prospector (then in his early 80s) destitute and ill, likely with pneumonia.

Thomas, described as a friend or acquaintance of Waltz, took him into her home and nursed him for several months. Some accounts suggest she was motivated by compassion, while others speculate she saw an opportunity to secure payment for his care, possibly through his rumored wealth. Waltz died on October 25, 1891, in Thomas’s home, an event that marked a turning point in her life and sparked the legend of the Lost Dutchman’s Mine.

Two conflicting narratives emerged about Waltz’s final days. According to Thomas, Waltz confided in her about the location of his mine, providing directions and possibly helping her draw a map. She claimed he intended for her to have a box of gold ore stored under his bed as payment for her care. However, Dick Holmes, a Phoenix local who was present on the night of Waltz’s death, asserted that Waltz gave him the gold and detailed directions to the mine during a deathbed confession. The dispute over the gold—reportedly 48 pounds of rich ore—and the mine’s location created a rift that fueled decades of debate among treasure hunters.

The Expedition and the Birth of a Legend

Rhinehart Petrasch - 1954 from Curse of the Dutchman's Gold
Rhinehart Petrasch – 1954 from Curse of the Dutchman’s Gold

Following Waltz’s death, Thomas acted swiftly to capitalize on his story. In 1892, she partnered with Rhinehart and Herman Petrasch, two German immigrant brothers, to search for the mine in the Superstition Mountains. At 29 years old, Thomas was an unlikely expedition leader, given the era’s gender norms and the rugged terrain of the Superstitions. The trio embarked in mid-July, a perilous time due to the desert’s extreme heat. The expedition was a failure, yielding no trace of the mine and nearly costing them their lives. Financially ruined, Thomas parted ways with the Petrasch brothers and never attempted another search.

Undeterred by her failure, Thomas leveraged the mystique of Waltz’s mine to sustain herself. She began selling maps purportedly based on Waltz’s directions for $8 each, a significant sum at the time. Her account of the expedition was published in the Arizona Weekly Gazette, and she likely provided information to journalist Pierpont C. Bicknell, whose articles in the San Francisco Chronicle brought national attention to the Lost Dutchman’s Mine. Thomas’s maps and stories, while criticized as embellished or fabricated by some, laid the foundation for the legend’s enduring appeal. Her entrepreneurial flair for publicity—whether intentional or opportunistic—transformed a local tale into a national obsession, inspiring countless treasure hunters and shaping the mythos of the American West.

Later Life and Legacy

In July 1893, Thomas remarried, wedding Albert Schaefer. The couple became known in Phoenix for eccentric behavior, including ritualistic burnt offerings in their front yard, which some accounts describe as cult-like. These practices may have reflected personal beliefs or an attempt to maintain public attention, but they further distanced Thomas from mainstream society.

Thomas’s financial situation never recovered from the failed expedition. She spent her later years in poverty, a stark contrast to the wealth she sought in the Superstitions. On December 15, 1917, she died of Bright’s disease (a kidney ailment) at age 55. Ironically, the route of her 1892 expedition passed over the sites of the Mammoth and Black Queen mines, two of Arizona’s richest gold deposits, discovered shortly after her search.

Historical Significance and Critical Perspective

Julia Thomas’s role in the Lost Dutchman’s Mine legend is both celebrated and scrutinized. To some, she was a savvy opportunist who amplified a dying man’s tale for profit, possibly fabricating details to cover unpaid debts or capitalize on Waltz’s reputation. Others view her as a victim of circumstance, a woman whose limited options in a patriarchal society led her to pursue a risky venture that ultimately failed. Her status as a woman of color adds complexity to her story, as her independence and visibility in Phoenix were remarkable for the time, yet likely contributed to her marginalization.

The veracity of Waltz’s mine remains debated. Some argue the Superstition Mountains, being igneous, lack significant gold deposits, suggesting Waltz’s ore came from elsewhere, possibly California or Colorado. Others, citing Waltz’s documented sales of gold to the U.S. Mint, believe the mine existed, though its location may have been a cache rather than a traditional vein. Thomas’s maps and stories, while influential, are often dismissed as unreliable, yet they reflect her agency in shaping a narrative that has outlived her.

Julia Thomas died penniless, but her legacy endures in the lore of the Lost Dutchman’s Mine. Her actions—nursing Waltz, leading an expedition, and selling maps—transformed a prospector’s secret into a cultural phenomenon. The Superstition Mountains, now part of Lost Dutchman State Park, draw thousands annually, many inspired by the tale Thomas helped create. Her life, marked by resilience and ambition, embodies the entrepreneurial spirit and harsh realities of the American frontier, forever tied to the enigmatic Jacob Waltz and his elusive gold.

Further Reading

The Curse of the Dutchman's Gold by Helen Corbin

The Curse of the Dutchman’s Gold by Helen Corbin

The Curse of the Dutchman's Gold by Helen Corbin Helen Corbin's The Curse of the Dutchman's Gold is the first book I have read on…

References

Herman Petrasch

Herman Petrasch ( April 6 1864 - 23 Nov 23, 1953 ), Photo by Desert Magazine January 1954 Issue
Herman Petrasch ( April 6 1864 – 23 Nov 23, 1953 ), Photo by Desert Magazine January 1954 Issue

Herman Petrasch of Phoenix, Arizona, is best known for his involvement in the legend of the Lost Dutchman’s Gold Mine, one of the most famous treasure legends in American history. Born on June 6, 1868, in Walla Walla, Washington, Herman Petrasch moved to Arizona with his family, who were among the early settlers in the region. The Petrasch family played a significant role in the exploration and development of Arizona’s mining potential.

Early Life and Family Background

Herman Petrasch was part of a pioneering family deeply involved in the mining industry. His brother, Rhinehart Petrasch, was also a prominent figure in Arizona’s mining history. Growing up in a family dedicated to prospecting and mining, Herman gained extensive knowledge and experience in the field from an early age.

The Lost Dutchman’s Gold Mine

Herman Petrasch is most famously connected to the legend of the Lost Dutchman’s Gold Mine. The mine, allegedly located in the Superstition Mountains near Phoenix, Arizona, is said to hold a vast fortune of gold. The story of the mine is shrouded in mystery and has captivated treasure hunters for over a century.

The legend originated with Jacob Waltz, a German immigrant (often referred to as the “Dutchman”) who supposedly discovered the gold mine in the late 19th century. Before his death in 1891, Waltz reportedly shared the location of the mine with a few people, including Julia Thomas, a family friend of the Petrasch family.

Involvement with the Search

After Waltz’s death, Herman Petrasch, along with his brother Rhinehart and Julia Thomas, dedicated themselves to finding the lost mine. They conducted numerous expeditions into the Superstition Mountains, guided by the clues and maps left behind by Waltz. Despite their efforts, the exact location of the mine remained elusive.

Herman’s dedication to the search for the Lost Dutchman’s Gold Mine exemplified the adventurous spirit and determination of the time. The Petrasch brothers’ explorations added to the mystique and allure of the legend, attracting countless other treasure hunters to the region.

Later Life and Legacy

Although Herman Petrasch never found the Lost Dutchman’s Gold Mine, his legacy is deeply intertwined with the legend. His persistent efforts and the stories of his expeditions contributed significantly to the mythos surrounding the mine. The legend continues to be a topic of fascination and speculation, drawing treasure hunters and enthusiasts to the Superstition Mountains to this day.

Herman Petrasch passed away on April 7, 1953, in Phoenix, Arizona. His life and adventures remain an integral part of Arizona’s rich history, symbolizing the enduring allure of hidden treasure and the human quest for discovery.

Conclusion

Herman Petrasch’s involvement in the search for the Lost Dutchman’s Gold Mine has made him a legendary figure in the annals of American folklore. His story, marked by determination and adventure, captures the imagination of those who continue to be intrigued by the mysteries of the past and the promise of hidden treasures.

Further Reading

The Curse of the Dutchman's Gold by Helen Corbin

The Curse of the Dutchman’s Gold by Helen Corbin

The Curse of the Dutchman's Gold by Helen Corbin Helen Corbin's The Curse of the Dutchman's Gold is the first book I have read on…

References

  • Apache Junction Public Library
  • Findagrave.com

The Argus Newspaper

The Argus was a weekly newspaper published in Holbrook, Navajo County, Arizona, from 1895 to 1900. Serving the rural community during Arizona’s territorial period, it provided local news, advertisements, and insights into the social, economic, and political life of the region. This report explores its history, content, and significance, using digitized records from the Library of Congress’ Chronicling America and the Arizona Memory Project.

Establishment and Publication

The Argus began on December 12, 1895, in Holbrook, a town along the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad. Published by the Arizona State Library, Archives and Public Records, it ran until December 1900 (LCCN: sn 94051341, OCLC: 25084608). Digitized issues from 1895–1900 are available through the Arizona Historical Digital Newspapers collection. Holbrook was a hub for ranching and trade, and The Argus succeeded The Holbrook News (1890–1891), later transitioning to The Holbrook Argus (1900–1913).

Content and Editorial Focus

The Argus covered:

  • Local News: Town meetings, social events, and local government in Navajo County.
  • Economic Updates: Ranching, railroad developments, and commerce.
  • Advertisements: Local businesses, including stores and saloons.
  • Political and Territorial News: Arizona Territory politics and national news.
  • Social Notices: Births, marriages, and deaths for genealogical records. Its editorial stance likely reflected Holbrook’s community values, focusing on growth and civic engagement.

Key Figures and Operations

Details on editors or publishers are limited, but local business or railroad figures likely ran the newspaper. Printed in Holbrook, it served Navajo County and nearby areas, with digitization credited to the Arizona State Library.

Historical Context

Published during Arizona’s territorial period (1863–1912), The Argus operated amid railroad expansion and population growth. Holbrook’s role as a trade hub shaped its focus on local concerns, with some coverage of statehood debates and Native American relations.

Impact and Legacy

The Argus fostered community cohesion in Holbrook, documenting daily life and commerce. Its digitized archives (1895–1900) are a genealogical and historical resource, accessible via Chronicling America. Its successor, The Holbrook Argus, continued its legacy until 1913, reflecting the importance of local journalism.

Conclusion

The Argus (1895–1900) was a vital newspaper in Holbrook, capturing Navajo County’s territorial history. Its coverage of local events and commerce offers a window into rural Arizona life. Preserved through digitization, it remains a key resource for researchers studying Arizona’s early settlers.

Sources: Library of Congress Chronicling America, Arizona Memory Project.