The town street was unpaved—a dusty brown with deep ruts. There was an eerie tranquility on the main street as folks ran inside nearby businesses for cover. I could see many of them gazing out the general store windows; and some were peeping through the swinging doors at the saloon.

My heart was nearly beating out of my chest. I stiffened my arms and nervously opened my right hand. My holster hung low and loose to my side, as I always liked it, and the edge of my ivory-handled Colt glistened in the noonday sun.

It was the district marshal who was walking toward me down the center of Dodge.

Closer the marshal ambled toward me until he finally brought himself to a final stance, approximately 15 yards from my position near the stable. The lawman’s stern posture clearly conveyed his intentions. Marshal Matt Dillon was waiting for me to make my next move.

The next seconds became surreal as time halted and my own body movements seemed to take on a look of slow motion. I looked into his steely eyes and listened to my heart thump. I knew he was stalling … waiting for me to draw.

Finally, as the town clock struck 12-noon, I drew my pistol and he reacted. Simultaneously, our revolvers fired with a loud “Ka-blammm!!” Bullets whizzed at lightning speed!

By the end of the gun battle, Marshal Matt Dillon was the only man left standing on the street with his smoking firearm at arm’s length and a deadly scowl on his face.

What about me? Where was I? I had collapsed, mortally wounded. I was lying on the living room floor of my home in Wapakoneta, Ohio. Dad chuckled and mumbled out a comment, saying, “Awhh, Keith, he got you again!”

Then, as the television program went to a commercial break, I jumped to the sofa and waited for the rest of the story to commence.

It seemed that every Saturday night, when Gunsmoke began, I had this same bloody gunfight with James Arness. Perhaps I was four or five-years-old when we first dueled.

For the next twenty or more years, James Arness — a.k.a., Matt Dillon — was one of my heroes and the epitome of what I thought a man should be. Matt stood for all that was right: integrity, courage, and honor.

Now, fortunately, because of TV Land, Gunsmoke is still one of my favorite shows and Matt is still a hero. The TV series holds the record as the longest-running dramatic television series in prime time, appearing in five consecutive decades.

A few years ago, my wife, Cheryl, gave me an autographed copy of a memoir, entitled, James Arness — Autobiography. As you might guess, it is one of my prized treasures.

James Arness is now 86-years-old, and, according to his website, the actor is still in fairly good shape except for being physically effected by years spent in the saddle. He also has a bum knee due to his participation in the Anzio landing and enduring German machine gun fire in World War II. However, he still has that commanding voice and towering height that made him a legend.

Such memories of family time remain for me; and, you know, they just don’t make shows like Gunsmoke anymore!

Maybe you have a favorite western or other old television show from the same era. If so, drop an e-mail to me and tell me about your memories. E-mail fkeithdavis@me.com; I would love to publish your memories and experiences, as well.

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(F. Keith Davis is a local columnist and publisher for Woodland Press (www.woodlandpress.com) at Chapmanville)