The New Mexican, 12 June 1963
[PHOTO] DOUGHBELLY PRICE GETS HIS WISH--An old wagon, drawn by two horses and followed by a riderless horse with boots hanging from saddlehorn, carries the body of Doughbelly Price of Taos to the cemetery yesterday for burial. Price, a former cowboy, had requested such a burial. Hundreds of friends and tourists lined the business district for the funeral.
TAOS--Doughbelly Price rode out of Taos for the last time yesterday the way he had lived--different.
The 66-year-old cowboy-turned-real-estate-dealer and author had expressed his views in life on what his funeral should be like. He got his wish.
As hundreds of moist-eyed friends lined the streets and bug-eyed tourists snapped pictures, the funeral procession made its way from Hanlon Funeral Home in southeast Taos to Sierra Vista Cemetery in north Taos.
The casket was carried on an old horse-drawn wagon--one that must have been nearly as old as Price. An Indian and a Spanish-American rode the wagon.
Following behind was a riderless horse, a pair of cowboy boots hanging from the saddle horn.
One of the largest crowds ever to attend a funeral had a last look at Price attired as everyone knew him. He was wearing the familiar Levis, white shirt, vest, boots and holding his big, black Stetson on his chest. Out of the left breast pocket of his shirt hung the string and tag of his sack of Bull Durham smoking tobacco.
The entire funeral was an almost unbelievable show for the tourists. They gawked, expressed disbelif, and scampered around to take pictures.
But no one minded. The little man who had gone through life enjoying his role as a character certainly wouldn't have.
Price, who had been cowboy, ranch cook, jail bird, gambler, bootlegger and many other things before settling down in Taos, was one of the community's real characters.
As a real estate man he became a success making fun of his own field and frankly telling his customers he was an "honest thief." He named his business the "Clip Joint." And the customers loved it.
He authored columns for numerous newspapers and magazines and wrote several books--ain addition to being the subject of others.
He wrote as he talked, with no respect for the English language. Price's given name was Steven Caroll, but it fell along the way many years ago. The nickname came about during the days when he was a ranch cook with his protruding stomach often white from the dough of bread he was making.