— Story —

 I was born poor as a pig in a log cabin in 1860, one of seven siblings.  Growing up, the boys couldn’t admit that I was a better shot than them. At fifteen, I trounced a big-time traveling marksman in a shootout in Ohio.  He took his loss like a real sport so I married him and let him schlep my rifles as part of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show.

We practiced right across the street here in Nutley, when it was the Eaton Stone Circus.  I could shoot the flames off moving candles and the hearts off poker cards from horseback, so Chief Sitting Bull' named me “Little Miss Sure Shot”.  My husband Frank held the cards right in his hands, not afraid to let his wife fire away and to bring home the bacon. That was something in those days, reckoning that women were expected to stay at home.  But not me, not Annie Oakley, no ma’am.

We tramped the world with Buffalo Bill, dazzling royalty and their courts; but there was nothing like coming back to Nutley for some fresh air and home cookin’.  I wish The Oakley Kitchen was around in my day. Worldly flavors with old time comforts and drink, just perfect for a lady who knocks down targets and preconceptions for a living.