The hat that made the cowboy

There are a few symbols so deeply woven into the fabric of Texas that they seem as native as mesquite or bluebonnets. One of them is the Stetson hat. Not just any Stetson hat – the Boss of the Plains. Texas Standard commentator W.F. Strong says that oddly enough, it didn’t come from Texas at […]

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Episode Transcript

(00:00):
There are a few symbols of deeply
woven into the fabric of Texas
that they seem as
native as Mesquite or blue bonnets.
One of them is the
Stetson hat,
not just any Stetsen hat, but
the boss of the planes.
Oddly enough, it didn't come from
Texas at all.

(00:20):
It was born out of necessity not
too far from the Lone Star State
in the high country of Colorado
by a man who
thought he was dying.
John B.
Stetson was born in 1830 in
New Jersey.
In his late 20s, around 1857
or 1858, he

(00:40):
was diagnosed with
tuberculosis.
Back then, TB was often a
death sentence.
Doctors advised him to get his
affairs in order and to get to
a dry climate.
So Stetson did what many a desperate
man would do in the mid-1800s.
He went west.

(01:00):
He joined a wagon train headed
toward Pike's Peak,
somewhere along the trail east of
Colorado Springs.
He decided that his narrow brimmed
eastern hat just wouldn't
do.
He put his hat making skills to use
around a campfire.
He fashioned a broad brimed
high crown hat out of
beaver felt, thick,

(01:22):
durable and water resistant.
But it wasn't for show, it
was a shield.
It could shade his eyes, protect him
from rain, fan a fire,
or even serve as a bucket to water a
horse.
A fellow traveler was so impressed
that he bought it on the spot.
That was the first Stetson
ever sold.

(01:43):
Stetsen eventually recovered his
health and returned to Philadelphia.
In 1865, at the age
of 35, he founded the
John B. Stetson Company,
producing the Boss of the
Plains hat.
For the booming Western market and
Texas, as it turned out,
was ready.
Cowboys across the plains quickly

(02:04):
recognized its value.
It was far superior to
the coonskin caps and floppy
wool hats they'd worn before.
This new hat was all function,
and somehow it looked right.
It looked Western.
Soon enough, Stetson's name wasn't
just a brand.
It became the word

(02:24):
for hat.
In Texas, the Stetson was adopted by
trail riders, ranchers, sheriffs,
and eventually by city folks who
didn't work cattle, but liked to
look like they did.
From Amarillo to Austin, the stetson
became a crown of
Texas identity.
And when the movies came along, they

(02:44):
sealed the legend.
Think of Tombstone, Doc
Holliday in a dusty gray
Stetson, Wyatt Earp tipping
his hat before a shootout, or
Lonesome Dove, where Gus and Cole's
hats say as much about their
character as their words ever
could.
In fact, one of the most iconic
Texas-style hats today is

(03:05):
the Gus Crease, named
after Gus McRae, Robert Duvall's
character in Lonesome Dove.
That high front crown that
slopes down toward the back carries
a swagger all its own.
It's not in the original Stetson
catalog, but it's pure Texas.
Functional, stylish,
and just a little bit rebellious.

(03:26):
Today, the Stetson endures in
Texas.
You see them in rodeos, ranch gates,
and wedding receptions.
You'll even see them under the
Golden Dome of the Capitol.
It's not always the Boss of the
Plains style anymore.
Now they come with creases and curls
and open crowns and
cattlemen dips.
But they're all part of the same
lineage.

(03:46):
The Stetsons, born from a
death sentence, saved by the
dry air and bright sun of
the Rockies and made immortal.
By the spirit of the West.
John B. Stetson may have been
a Philadelphian by birth,
but his hat, that hat,
belongs to Texas.

(04:07):
I'm W.F. Strong.
These are stories from Texas.
Some of them are
true.