Goosed constable kills the chickens

ROBERT GARDNER

* EDITOR’S NOTE: The Daily Pilot has agreed to republish The Verdict,

the ever popular column written for many years by retired Corona del

Mar jurist and historian Robert Gardner, in exchange for donations to

the Surfrider Foundation. This particular column was originally

published Dec. 5, 1992.

Constable Bill Ponting was an imposing figure. Well over 6 feet in

height, Bill always wore high-heeled cowboy boots and a high cowboy

hat.

He was rather rotund, meaning he had a big belly. His complexion

was ruddy, meaning he had a red face, and he had a nose that would

put W.C. Fields to shame.

I remember Bill standing there in Stark’s Saloon in Newport (later

Sid’s Blue Beet), heel of a cowboy boot hooked over the brass rail,

elbows on the bar, belly protruding, nose glowing, as he told the

following story.

It must be remembered that during the ‘20s and ‘30s, Costa Mesa

was a very rural area. Everyone had chickens and rabbits and

vegetable gardens plus a few fruit trees and an occasional cow or

goat. (Thus, Goat Hill.) The feed store on Newport Boulevard was the

busiest store in town. Claire Nelson, later Orange County supervisor,

ran the feed store.

Bill lived on Newport Boulevard this side of the Santa Ana Country

Club. He had a lapidary shop in front and the usual chicken coop,

rabbit hutches and vegetable garden in back.

As Bill told the story, one night he heard the chickens raising

hell in the chicken coop and decided a coyote must be after them. So,

he crawled out of bed, wearing his night shirt, grabbed his 12-gauge,

double-barreled shotgun and ambled out into the backyard to protect

his chickens from the pesky coyote. His trusty dog followed along.

When he got to the chicken coop, Bill crouched down to look inside

for the coyote. At the same time, he hitched up his night shirt as he

cradled the shotgun across his knees. Just then, his faithful dog put

his cold nose on Bill’s exposed rump. This caused a spontaneous

reaction. His forefinger convulsively nosed on the triggers of the

12-gauge and “Ka-boooom!” Both barrels discharged into the chicken

coop.

“Killed 24 chickens,” he said proudly.

“What about the coyote?”

“Never was one. Damned chickens just get nervous once in a while

for no reason at all.”

Bill Ponting was succeeded as constable by Tiny Vaughn. Tiny not

only succeeded to Bill’s job, he apparently succeeded to Bill’s

stories. Johnny Vogel swore that Tiny told him exactly the same

story, with himself as hero.

All I know is that’s the way I heard Bill Ponting tell it in

Stark’s Saloon, the heel of a cowboy boot hooked over the brass rail,

elbows on the bar, belly protruding, nose gleaming.

* ROBERT GARDNER is a Corona del Mar resident and a former judge.