Drizzt
February 12, 2003, 05:37 PM
The Associated Press State & Local Wire
February 8, 2003, Saturday, BC cycle
SECTION: State and Regional
LENGTH: 964 words
HEADLINE: Memories of gunfight still linger after 20 years
BYLINE: By JAMES MacPHERSON, Associated Press Writer
DATELINE: HEATON, N.D.
BODY:
Someone still remembers.
A set of footprints leads to Gordon Kahl's snow-covered grave, adorned with freshly planted plastic flowers that struggle against a bitter wind.
It's been 20 years since Kahl was buried in this town where he grew up and farmed. And people around these parts can't forget what put him here for good. On Feb. 13, 1983, a gunfight erupted 60 miles south on a rural highway in Medina, south of Heaton in central North Dakota. When it ended, two U.S. marshals were dead.
Kahl was a member of the Posse Comitatus, a militant, anti-tax, anti-Semitic group that recognized no power higher than county government. He served time in federal prison for refusing to pay income tax. After his release, he still refused to pay taxes or report to his probation officer, violating his probation.
In 1981, the government seized some of his land to pay off back taxes. He vowed to fellow farmers and family there would be trouble if the feds crossed his path again.
They did at dusk, on a Sunday in February two years later, when they came to arrest Kahl for violating his probation.
Kahl and about a dozen other tax protesters, including Kahl's wife, Joan, and eldest son, Yorie, met at a clinic in Medina, about 80 miles east of Bismarck.
Afterward, Yorie, his mother and two others left in one car. Kahl was in another vehicle with Scott Faul, known for driving his tractor in the fields with an AR-15 assault rifle at his side.
Six U.S. marshals and local police set up a roadblock. There was a standoff. Shots were fired. A hail of automatic gunfire lasted less than a minute.
Reo Fandrich was feeding his cows when the guns went off across a lake from his farm.
"It sounded like there was an explosion in the cheese factory," Fandrich said. "I grabbed the wife and told her to come out and listen, and then it died. And so did everything else around here."
Now, said Fandrich, an auto mechanic, "The town just wants to forget."
U.S. Marshals Robert Cheshire Jr., 32, and Kenneth Muir, 53, were killed. Deputy Sheriff Bradley Kapp's trigger finger was blown off. Medina police officer Steven Schnable was hit in the leg. Deputy Marshal James Hopson was hit in the head.
Yorie Kahl was shot in the stomach. Gordon Kahl took his wounded son back to Dr. Clarence Martin's clinic in a stolen police car, then left. A nationwide hunt for him began.
The end came for Kahl that June, in another shootout at a farm in Smithville, Ark.
Lawrence County Sheriff Gene Matthews and Kahl both died in the gunbattle.
Yorie Kahl and Faul later were convicted of murder and assault. Both are serving life sentences.
Weapons were part of Gordon Kahl's life. A B-25 tailgunner in World War II, he was credited with shooting down 10 enemy aircraft on 57 bombing missions.
After the war, he married Joan and gave his new bride a 20-guage shotgun as a wedding gift. They had six children. He was 63 when he died.
Kahl was twice wounded in the war and was given a chestful of medals. His name is inscribed on one of 1,010 bricks at a veterans memorial in Dawson, west of Medina.
"He's among a lot of his friends," said Russell Kleppe, one of the memorial coordinators and a World War II veteran.
Virgil Kramlich of Medina said Kahl's anti-government views appealed to many farmers, who had been - and still are - dealing with a difficult economy.
"A lot of farmers around here listened to what he had to say about saving our farms, but he went about it the wrong way," Kramlich said.
Kramlich said he and about 60 other locals attended one of the first meetings of the Posse Comitatus but were turned off by the display of weapons.
Only a handful showed up at subsequent meetings, he said.
"Everyone around here has a gun in their pickup window. But nobody carried them up and down the town like they did," Kramlich said of the Posse members.
"They carried their guns around right out in the open and made no qualms about it," he said.
"Nobody bothered them until that day."
Medina's population slid from about 500 in 1980 to 335 in 2000, according to U.S. Census figures.
Kahl's hometown of Heaton once had about 100 people, but now the number has dwindled to about a dozen. Most of the homes and businesses are boarded up and silent. Deer walk confidently through the middle of town.
Kramlich, who owns a butcher shop and meat locker in Medina, used to farm until times got bad and a bank foreclosed on his property. He suspects only 20 percent of the farms in his area have survived since Kahl's death.
"A lot of young farmers around here are barely scraping by," he said. But he does not believe the situation will escalate to bloodshed.
"Nobody around here or anywhere likes paying taxes, but we realize we have to, for schools and roads and whatever," Kramlich said. "Nobody I know condones what Gordon Kahl did."
Lynn Crooks, a now-retired U.S. attorney involved in the Kahl case, said the Posse, and tax protesters in general, have disappeared into the woodwork.
Kahl was a martyr to the Posse and a folk hero to some. T-shirts and bumper stickers eulogized him. Books and songs were written about him and a TV movie was made.
Crooks said Kahl was nothing more than a murderer.
"There isn't anything to remember about the fellow other than he murdered cops and had associates that helped him do it," Crooks said.
Deputy Kapp is still on the job, 20 years after part of his hand was blown off in the Medina shootout.
"I'll never forget it," Kapp said. "It doesn't bother me and it never has."
Kapp sees one reason not to forget what happened on that prairie road 20 years ago.
"I think it should be remembered for the marshals that died that day," he said. "The other side, I don't care about."
February 8, 2003, Saturday, BC cycle
SECTION: State and Regional
LENGTH: 964 words
HEADLINE: Memories of gunfight still linger after 20 years
BYLINE: By JAMES MacPHERSON, Associated Press Writer
DATELINE: HEATON, N.D.
BODY:
Someone still remembers.
A set of footprints leads to Gordon Kahl's snow-covered grave, adorned with freshly planted plastic flowers that struggle against a bitter wind.
It's been 20 years since Kahl was buried in this town where he grew up and farmed. And people around these parts can't forget what put him here for good. On Feb. 13, 1983, a gunfight erupted 60 miles south on a rural highway in Medina, south of Heaton in central North Dakota. When it ended, two U.S. marshals were dead.
Kahl was a member of the Posse Comitatus, a militant, anti-tax, anti-Semitic group that recognized no power higher than county government. He served time in federal prison for refusing to pay income tax. After his release, he still refused to pay taxes or report to his probation officer, violating his probation.
In 1981, the government seized some of his land to pay off back taxes. He vowed to fellow farmers and family there would be trouble if the feds crossed his path again.
They did at dusk, on a Sunday in February two years later, when they came to arrest Kahl for violating his probation.
Kahl and about a dozen other tax protesters, including Kahl's wife, Joan, and eldest son, Yorie, met at a clinic in Medina, about 80 miles east of Bismarck.
Afterward, Yorie, his mother and two others left in one car. Kahl was in another vehicle with Scott Faul, known for driving his tractor in the fields with an AR-15 assault rifle at his side.
Six U.S. marshals and local police set up a roadblock. There was a standoff. Shots were fired. A hail of automatic gunfire lasted less than a minute.
Reo Fandrich was feeding his cows when the guns went off across a lake from his farm.
"It sounded like there was an explosion in the cheese factory," Fandrich said. "I grabbed the wife and told her to come out and listen, and then it died. And so did everything else around here."
Now, said Fandrich, an auto mechanic, "The town just wants to forget."
U.S. Marshals Robert Cheshire Jr., 32, and Kenneth Muir, 53, were killed. Deputy Sheriff Bradley Kapp's trigger finger was blown off. Medina police officer Steven Schnable was hit in the leg. Deputy Marshal James Hopson was hit in the head.
Yorie Kahl was shot in the stomach. Gordon Kahl took his wounded son back to Dr. Clarence Martin's clinic in a stolen police car, then left. A nationwide hunt for him began.
The end came for Kahl that June, in another shootout at a farm in Smithville, Ark.
Lawrence County Sheriff Gene Matthews and Kahl both died in the gunbattle.
Yorie Kahl and Faul later were convicted of murder and assault. Both are serving life sentences.
Weapons were part of Gordon Kahl's life. A B-25 tailgunner in World War II, he was credited with shooting down 10 enemy aircraft on 57 bombing missions.
After the war, he married Joan and gave his new bride a 20-guage shotgun as a wedding gift. They had six children. He was 63 when he died.
Kahl was twice wounded in the war and was given a chestful of medals. His name is inscribed on one of 1,010 bricks at a veterans memorial in Dawson, west of Medina.
"He's among a lot of his friends," said Russell Kleppe, one of the memorial coordinators and a World War II veteran.
Virgil Kramlich of Medina said Kahl's anti-government views appealed to many farmers, who had been - and still are - dealing with a difficult economy.
"A lot of farmers around here listened to what he had to say about saving our farms, but he went about it the wrong way," Kramlich said.
Kramlich said he and about 60 other locals attended one of the first meetings of the Posse Comitatus but were turned off by the display of weapons.
Only a handful showed up at subsequent meetings, he said.
"Everyone around here has a gun in their pickup window. But nobody carried them up and down the town like they did," Kramlich said of the Posse members.
"They carried their guns around right out in the open and made no qualms about it," he said.
"Nobody bothered them until that day."
Medina's population slid from about 500 in 1980 to 335 in 2000, according to U.S. Census figures.
Kahl's hometown of Heaton once had about 100 people, but now the number has dwindled to about a dozen. Most of the homes and businesses are boarded up and silent. Deer walk confidently through the middle of town.
Kramlich, who owns a butcher shop and meat locker in Medina, used to farm until times got bad and a bank foreclosed on his property. He suspects only 20 percent of the farms in his area have survived since Kahl's death.
"A lot of young farmers around here are barely scraping by," he said. But he does not believe the situation will escalate to bloodshed.
"Nobody around here or anywhere likes paying taxes, but we realize we have to, for schools and roads and whatever," Kramlich said. "Nobody I know condones what Gordon Kahl did."
Lynn Crooks, a now-retired U.S. attorney involved in the Kahl case, said the Posse, and tax protesters in general, have disappeared into the woodwork.
Kahl was a martyr to the Posse and a folk hero to some. T-shirts and bumper stickers eulogized him. Books and songs were written about him and a TV movie was made.
Crooks said Kahl was nothing more than a murderer.
"There isn't anything to remember about the fellow other than he murdered cops and had associates that helped him do it," Crooks said.
Deputy Kapp is still on the job, 20 years after part of his hand was blown off in the Medina shootout.
"I'll never forget it," Kapp said. "It doesn't bother me and it never has."
Kapp sees one reason not to forget what happened on that prairie road 20 years ago.
"I think it should be remembered for the marshals that died that day," he said. "The other side, I don't care about."