In the summer of 1881, Sheriff Pat Garrett stepped out of a darkened bedroom in Fort Sumner, New Mexico, and announced that he had just killed the most wanted outlaw in the American West. The man on the floor, he said, was Billy the Kid. Yet even in that moment, one of the two deputies standing beside him was not so sure. John W.

Poe had never laid eyes on the Kid before that night, and as he looked at the body in the poor light, he told Garrett he believed the wrong man had been shot. The other deputy, Thomas McKini, would agree with Poe’s doubts years later. Only Garrett insisted he had recognized the dead man by his voice, though almost no words had been spoken in the room before the shots. Nearly seventy years after that night, an elderly man in Texas stepped forward to claim the whole story was a lie.

He said the man Garrett killed was someone else entirely, and that he himself was the real Billy the Kid, having quietly outlived his own legend by decades. His name was Brushy Bill Roberts, and his claim would ignite one of the most bizarre and fiercely debated mysteries in the history of the Old West. As a young outlaw, the man known to history as William H. Bonney had built a reputation that spread far beyond the New Mexico Territory.

He had survived the bloody Lincoln County War, escaped from jail by killing two guards, and dodged capture for months before Garrett finally cornered him. That the Kid had died at Garrett’s hands became the accepted story, sealed by the sheriff’s own published account and by the grave dug for the body the next day. But questions surfaced almost immediately. The only witnesses at the shooting were Garrett and his two deputies, one of whom had never seen the Kid and another who knew him only vaguely.

The identification rested almost entirely on Garrett’s word. Some locals in Fort Sumner whispered that the wrong man had been buried, but the inquest, arranged by Garrett with politically connected associates, closed the matter quickly enough for the sheriff to claim the reward. The grave itself added to the uncertainty. Over the decades that followed, the burial site was damaged and likely washed away by flooding.

Today, the marked grave believed to hold Billy the Kid may contain no remains at all, and requests for exhumation and DNA testing have been consistently denied by authorities. The old man who would challenge the official story entered public view in 1948 through a probate investigator from St. Louis named William V. Morrison.

Morrison was conducting routine work when he encountered an elderly man identified as Joe Hines, who had recently filed a claim on land left by his deceased brother. During their conversations, Hines offered detailed recollections of his own involvement in the Lincoln County War, a conflict inseparable from the Kid’s legend. Then Hines made a startling declaration: Billy the Kid had not died in 1881. Hines would not reveal the man’s identity or location, but the claim was enough to send Morrison on a new path of investigation.

That same year, Morrison encountered another figure who deepened the mystery. J. Frank Dalton of Elton, Oklahoma, had attracted attention by declaring himself to be Jesse James. Dalton went further, insisting that Billy the Kid was also still alive and that the man known locally in Hamilton, Texas as O.

Roberts was in fact the legendary outlaw in hiding. Following the lead from Joe Hines, Morrison began a written exchange with O. Roberts, the elderly resident of Hamilton. Over time, Roberts opened up and eventually made the declaration that would define the rest of his life: he was Billy the Kid.

In his letters and conversations with Morrison, Roberts recounted numerous stories from his past, tales that, if accurate, would fill many of the blank spots in the Kid’s life that historians had struggled to document. One of his main motivations for coming forward, he said, was to secure a full pardon. Roberts claimed that New Mexico Governor Lew Wallace had promised him that pardon in 1879 following the Lincoln County War, but that it was never formally granted. He also demonstrated what he said were skills from his former life, including the ability to slip out of handcuffs.

Roberts offered an explanation for how the Kid had escaped. The man Garrett killed in 1881 was not him at all, but another outlaw named Billy Barlow. According to Roberts, this mistaken identity allowed the real Kid to disappear undetected and travel to Mexico. He insisted he would fully reveal his story only if he received the pardon he said had been promised decades earlier.

The claims stirred strong emotions, particularly among the descendants of Pat Garrett. Roberts also stated that his real name was William Henry Roberts, born on December 31, 1859, in Buffalo Gap, Texas, near Abilene. Throughout his life, he had used several other names and identities. But discrepancies in his story emerged quickly.

A 1950 article from the Austin American-Statesman reported that Roberts initially claimed to have been a member of Jesse James’s gang, and only later came forward asserting that he was Billy the Kid. In early 1950, Roberts reportedly stated that as a young man he had ridden with the James-Younger gang. He also identified J. Frank Dalton as the real Jesse James.

William Morrison claimed that during a personal examination of Roberts while the old man was unclothed, he observed twenty-six old wounds, which he described as scars from bullets and blades. This physical evidence, Morrison believed, supported Roberts’s claim. As part of his investigation, Morrison also attempted to locate individuals from Billy the Kid’s past. He found Jim McDaniels, a former member of the Jesse Evans gang, in Round Rock, Texas.

McDaniels, along with several others who had known the Kid during his lifetime, signed sworn statements expressing their belief that Roberts was indeed the same person. Not everyone agreed. Bill and Sam Jones, also believed to have been acquainted with the Kid, declined to sign affidavits. Sam Jones responded by letter, writing that he was too old to take on such a responsibility: “Received your letter and am sorry, but feel that I can’t sign your affidavit.

I’m old and I just don’t feel like being obligated. ” Bill Jones’s grandson, writing on his grandfather’s behalf, expressed doubts and declined participation. Questions about Brushy Bill’s identity continued to multiply. It was well documented that Billy the Kid could read and write English and spoke Spanish fluently.

In contrast, Roberts was unable to read or write and had only moderate skill in spoken Spanish. Critics seized on this linguistic gap as a key point against his claim. In 1950, Roberts traveled to Santa Fe for an official meeting with New Mexico Governor Thomas J. Mabry, who had publicly announced the event.

The meeting drew significant media attention. After hearing Roberts’s account and reviewing the evidence, Mabry declared that he did not believe the story and formally rejected the pardon request. The attention, combined with the stress of travel from his home in Hico, Texas, reportedly took a toll on Roberts’s health. Not long after the meeting, he passed away.

For many years, both Roberts and his story faded from public memory. Interest was revived in 1990 when the film Young Guns II portrayed Brushy Bill as the narrator, recounting the life of Billy the Kid and the events of the Lincoln County War. Following the film’s release, new books began exploring the mystery, and fresh attention was given to the possibility that Roberts may have been telling the truth. The identity of Brushy Bill himself became a matter of dispute.

Marshall Trimble, the official state historian of Arizona, references the work of Frederick Nolan, a respected expert on Billy the Kid. Nolan highlights a 1987 letter written by Mrs. Geneva Pitman and sent to Joe Bolan, founder of a historical interest group called the Billy the Kid Gang, Inc. In her letter, Mrs.

Pitman identified her uncle, known publicly as Brushy Bill, as Oliver P. Roberts. She further stated, based on the family bible, that he was born on August 26, 1879. If correct, he would have been 71 when he died in Hico in 1950.

Author W. C. Jameson, a vocal supporter of Brushy Bill’s claim, argued instead that Brushy Bill’s true name was William Henry Roberts. Jameson insisted that Oliver Pleasant Roberts and Brushy Bill were two separate individuals, a position that directly contradicted Geneva Pitman’s statement, which firmly linked her uncle to the name Oliver P.

Roberts and rejected the idea that he was Billy the Kid. If Brushy Bill had indeed been born in 1859, as some supporters claimed, he would have been approximately 90 at the time of his death. The age discrepancy played a key role in the debate. The first major work on the subject, Alias Billy the Kid, was co-authored by William V.

Morrison and western historian C. L. Sonnichsen. While the authors attempted a fresh look at the story, most research on the topic, including theirs, relied heavily on the 1882 account published by Sheriff Pat Garrett.

However, Garrett’s book had been largely shaped by Ash Upson, the postmaster of Roswell, who contributed both factual elements and fictionalized material. Upson’s embellishments helped solidify the legend of Billy the Kid that endured for decades. Upon its release, Alias Billy the Kid received mixed reviews, but it found a surprising supporter in former President Harry Truman. Truman wrote to Morrison expressing his belief that Roberts may indeed have been the Kid, and regretted that Brushy Bill had passed away before being given the opportunity to present his case to a different governor, one who might have been more receptive to his pardon request.

In 2005, author W. C. Jameson, who had studied under Sonnichsen, revisited the subject in his book Billy the Kid: Beyond the Grave. His research renewed interest in the case and prompted further investigation.

One prominent figure who joined the discussion was Steve Sedwall, a former deputy sheriff of Lincoln County and a former mayor of Capitan, New Mexico. In April 2015, broadcaster and author Bill O’Reilly added his voice to the debate. In his book Bill O’Reilly’s Legends and Lies: The Real West, he suggested that the evidence supporting Brushy Bill’s claim might actually outweigh the traditional narrative. O’Reilly cited the original Alias Billy the Kid as a foundational source and featured the story on his national television program, presenting a segment that reconstructed the events surrounding Billy the Kid’s supposed death from Brushy Bill Roberts’s point of view.

Physical evidence was brought to bear on the question as well. In 1989, the Lincoln County Heritage Trust sponsored a computer-based facial comparison study conducted by Robert Elar and Dr. Thomas G. Kyle.

They used a custom-developed analytical method rather than standard procedures commonly used by law enforcement. Their process involved scanning photographs of Brushy Bill Roberts, Billy the Kid, and 150 additional individuals. A computer analyzed the images using a similarity index that compared 25 key facial landmarks. When the results were ranked, Roberts’s image placed 42nd, meaning 41 other individuals more closely matched the well-known tintype image of Billy the Kid.

Researcher Robert Snow noted that if Roberts and the Kid were truly the same person, the photo should have ranked near the top, ideally within the top two matches. He also pointed out that photo comparisons are highly dependent on the alignment and angle of the faces being compared, which may have affected the outcome. A second study followed in 1990 at the University of Texas. This research used advanced facial comparison tools at the Laboratory for Vision Studies and the Advanced Graphics Laboratory, led by imaging experts Scott Actton and Alan Bovik.

Unlike the earlier study, this one corrected for differences in facial angle and applied a facial recognition system that had been used by agencies such as the FBI, CIA, and Interpol, giving the results a greater degree of statistical reliability. One early photograph of Brushy Bill, reportedly taken when he was around 14 years old, was found to closely resemble the famous tintype of Billy the Kid. Additionally, a photo of Roberts at age 71 produced a 93% similarity rating to the known image of the Kid. Actton and Bovik concluded that their findings showed a very close resemblance between Roberts and Billy the Kid.

They acknowledged, however, that for the results to be accepted scientifically, the study would need to be independently replicated. No follow-up studies have been conducted to confirm these results. Even if the facial comparison findings were replicated, they could not serve as definitive proof of identity. Facial similarity alone cannot verify that two individuals were the same person without supporting evidence.

In 1996, the results of the University of Texas study were reviewed by Judge Andre McNeel of Arkansas’s 12th Judicial District and attorney Helen Grinder, a respected legal figure in the state. Both expressed confidence in the strength of the findings. Grinder in particular described the case for Brushy Bill being Billy the Kid as strong, substantial, and excellent, based on the photographic study and other supporting evidence. In 2003, an effort was launched to settle the matter through DNA.

The initiative was led by Lincoln County Sheriff Tom Sullivan, Capitan Mayor Steve Sedwall, and De Baca County Sheriff Gary Graves, all based in New Mexico. Their goal was to use modern DNA testing to confirm whether Billy the Kid was truly buried in Fort Sumner. They proposed exhuming the remains believed to be his, along with those of his mother, Catherine Antrim, for comparative analysis. The plan faced immediate challenges.

One major obstacle was the uncertainty over the exact burial locations of both individuals; historical records lacked the clarity needed to pinpoint their graves with confidence. In addition to logistical issues, the project encountered a series of legal complications. Ultimately, in September 2004, a court ruling blocked the proposed exhumations, effectively halting the investigation before DNA analysis could be conducted. At the end of his life, Brushy Bill Roberts resided on West Second Street in the town of Hico, Texas.

After his passing on December 27, 1950, he was laid to rest in Hamilton, the county seat located about 20 miles south of Hico. Although numerous inconsistencies existed in his story, the town of Hico embraced Brushy Bill’s legacy. The local chamber of commerce supported the establishment of the Billy the Kid Museum, located in the historic western district of the town, which highlights Roberts’s claim and its place in the broader legend of the American frontier. A commemorative marker stands in downtown Hico recognizing the man and the controversy surrounding his identity.

The inscription reads: “Alias Brushy Bill Roberts, alias Billy the Kid, died in Hico, Texas, December 27th, 1950. ” The plaque also acknowledges Roberts’s final mission to convince the world that he was truly Billy the Kid and to secure the pardon he said had been promised to him by Governor Lew Wallace of the New Mexico Territory. Despite decades of investigation, sworn affidavits, photo analysis, and DNA discussions, the truth remains elusive. What is left is one of the Old West’s greatest unsolved mysteries, a tale where fact and folklore ride side by side.

Whether Brushy Bill Roberts was a forgotten outlaw who slipped through history’s cracks or a man who got caught up in the legend of Billy the Kid, the question has never been settled. The old man from Hico died insisting he was the real thing, and the grave in Fort Sumner, if it holds anyone at all, has kept its secret for well over a century.