To suggest that I might want to look into a story about Mr. Stowers, I was contacted by former Livingston resident Cecil L. Allen who gave me a brief summary about the claim that Stowers was the sole survivor of the Battle of the Little Big Horn, and not only did he make this astounding claim, but he was buried in Baxter. I was very excited at the prospects of doing a story involving historical data about this famous battle and the fact that maybe someone really had survived. After a meeting with Cecil, followed by a trip to the cemetery, and a visit with Cecil’s friend, Harold Allen, the story told for many years in Baxter of Stowers was passed on to me. Armed with this information, and later doing some research about Custer, I was all set to put together a story. Little did I know what a can of worms I would be opening when this story hit my website. It wasn’t long until emails from various members of organizations and groups I had no idea existed began to rain down on me like a hail storm. I have since learned that the Battle of the Little Big Horn has many faithful and dedicated people who have formed these organizations, and have members who have spent untold hours in research about what really did happen during this battle. Needless to say, I was put in my place by one or two rather irate people, and told point blank my story about Thomas J. Stowers could not possibly be true. I responded by saying that in some situations, my policy about doing a story was to rely on information handed down to me by others, and that it would never be my intention to publish something I knew beforehand as being an outright lie. After one fellow had some time to rethink his hasty, rather unpleasant email, I did receive an apology, and eventually, all the fuss died down. I suppose the reason I did not do any further checking into the possibility that the Stowers’ claim was untrue was the way the manner used in letting me know about my unintended mistake.

But recently this story was brought to my attention once more by a resident of Memphis who contacted me my email. His name is Michael Nunnally, and as it turns out, he has published a book entitled "I Survived Custer’s Last Stand!" I might add that Mr. Nunnally did not in any way speak critically of my story and the fact that it was probably not the truth. Instead, he explained what came as a complete surprise to me. Evidently, Thomas J. Stowers  is just one of many who have made the claim to be the only survivor of this famous battle. Mr. Nunnally sent me a copy of his book containing over fifty names of individuals, including Calamity Jane, who each have a similar story. He says in his book "...there was one behind every rock. They appeared by the hundreds, casual liars, small town yarn spinners, some with serious mental conditions, men whose lives for the most part were uneventful, trying to grab some share of notoriety." "Some pretenders had books written about them; one was featured in a movie, and quite a number still have their believers." Mr. Nunnally includes in his book the name of each individual who makes this claim, as well as a little bit of each one’s story. One is said to have "survived by lying under a horse on the battlefield for two days in 100 degree temperatures." Another said he survived by "stripping a dead Indian and riding off on his pony." A man by the name of Patrick J. Ward whose tombstone is in the Grand Junction, Tennessee Cemetery says only that he served in the Seventh U.S. Cavalry under General G.A. Custer. Mr. Nunnally’s book indicates that Patrick Ward’s name does not appear on any roster having to do with this battle. Even Calamity Jane says in a letter to her daughter that she was the first person on the field after the battle.

Thomas J. Stowers’ story was that he was drunk and had been placed in a supply wagon. During the battle, the wagon overturned, pinning him beneath, and thus saving his life. Mr. Nunnally thinks this story sounds like something straight out of a W.C. Fields skit, due to the fact that he says there were no wagons present during the time of the battle.

After all the dust settles and all the claims of the many so called survivors were proven false, it seems that everyone involved in finding out what really happened during the battle agrees that the horse, "Comanche is the only recognized sole survivor of the Battle of the Little Big Horn, and while a number of wounded horses were found on the field, Comanche was the only one saved from extermination. The horse, belonging to Captain Myles Keogh, had a number of wounds when found, but was taken back to Ft. Abraham Lincoln where he was nursed back to health. In April of 1878, General Order No. 7 was issued that Comanche was never to be ridden again. The horse was stabled at Fort Riley, and following his death in 1891, his remains were stuffed by a local taxidermist. He was displayed at the 1893 World’s Fair and eventually ended up as somewhat of a mascot at the University of Kansas. Comanche resided in a glass case with a brass sign which read, "Sole survivor of the Battle of the Little Big Horn," but in the 1970's a local Kansas Indian tribe asked that the offensive sign be removed. What the offense was is unclear since Comanche’s claim and title are unchallenged; but not wanting to let truth offend anyone, the University of Kansas hierarchy had it removed. The most famous horse in American history, Comanche, was the subject of the 1958 Walt Disney movie, Tonka, based on the 1951 book by David Appel."