October 1966, a stuntman dies on John Wayne’s movie set. What the studios offer to his widow is just a ridiculous insult. Wayne hears about it. What he does next will make the studio regret that offer. Here is the story. The horse falls wrong. Pete Keller hits the ground at the wrong angle. His neck snaps.

 The sound carries across the desert. Everyone hears it. Cast, crew, director, John Wayne. They all hear it [music] and they all know Pete Keller is dead. It’s October 15th, 1966. Monument Valley, Arizona. They’re filming The War Wagon. It’s a western big budget major studio. Universal Pictures. Wayne is the star. Pete is the stunt coordinator.

 Was the stunt coordinator. Now he’s lying in the dirt with a broken neck while 50 people stand there watching. The medics arrive, check for pulse, check for breathing. [music] Nothing. Pete Keller is 38 years old, married, three kids, ages 6, 8, and 11. He’s been doing stunts for 15 years, never had a serious injury until today.

Wayne stands 20 ft away watching. His face is stone, but his hands are shaking. Production shuts down. The sheriff arrives, [music] asks questions, takes statements, rules it accidental death. The body gets taken away. The crew goes back to the hotel. [music] Nobody talks. What is there to say? A man died doing his job, doing what John Wayne was supposed to do on camera, but couldn’t because he’s 60 years old and had lung cancer 2 years ago.

 Someone died being John Wayne. That’s what stuntmen do. They die being other people. Before we continue, quick question for you. Have you ever seen something happen at work that nobody wanted to talk about? Drop your state in the comments. It’s mid-occtober in Arizona. The days are still hot, low 90s, but the nights get cold fast.

Desert weather. The film crew is staying at a motel in Mexican Hat, Utah, 40 miles from the set. The War Wagon is a big production. Kirk Douglas is the co-star. Howard Keel, Robert Walker Jr. [music] Good cast, good script, good money. Universal is spending $3 million on this picture.

 That’s serious money in 1966. Stunt work is dangerous. Everyone knows that. But it pays well. Pete Keller [music] made $15,000 a year. That’s double what most working men make. [music] It’s enough to buy a house, support a family, send kids to college someday. [music] But you earn every dollar. You risk your life every day. Pete’s wife is Linda Keller.

 She’s 34 years old, high school sweetheart. Married Pete when she was 19. Followed him to Hollywood. Watched him break bones for movie stars. Patched him up. Sent him back out. That’s what stuntwives do. They wait. [music] They worry. They pray nothing goes wrong. On October 15th, something went wrong.

 The studio sends someone to Linda’s house that same day. [music] A lawyer, junior executive type, suit and tie, clipboard. He sits at her kitchen table. Her three kids are in the other room with a neighbor. [music] Linda’s eyes are red. She hasn’t slept, hasn’t eaten, just got the call 6 hours ago. Her husband is dead. The lawyer is polite, professional.

 He’s done this before. He pulls out papers. Mrs. Keller, Universal Pictures wants to express our deepest condolences for your loss. Pete was a valued member of our team. Linda doesn’t respond, just [music] stares. We’d like to offer a settlement, $5,000. [music] Sign here and we’ll have a check to you within 2 weeks. Linda looks at the number.

 $5,000 for her husband’s life for 15 years of risking everything [music] for leaving her alone with three kids and a mortgage. $5,000. It’s a generous offer, Mrs. Keller. Pete knew the risks. This isn’t a liability situation. The studio is offering this out of goodwill. Linda’s hands start shaking.

 Goodwill? Take it or leave it, Mrs. Keller. This offer expires in 48 hours. The lawyer slides the papers across the table, stands up, walks out, leaves Linda sitting there staring at a number that values her husband’s life at less than a new car. John Wayne doesn’t sleep that night. [music] He’s in his hotel room in Mexican hat.

 can’t stop thinking about Pete, about the sound, about Linda, about those three kids who just lost their father so John Wayne could make a movie. Wayne has been in this business for 40 years. He’s seen men get hurt. Broken bones, concussions, burns, but he’s never seen someone die. Not on his set, not doing a stunt that was supposed to be him.

 He keeps thinking, “Pete died being me. Pete died so I could pretend to be a cowboy. Pete died so Universal Pictures could make $3 million. At 6:00 in the morning, Wayne gets a phone call. It’s the unit production manager calling to tell him about the studio’s settlement offer. $5,000. Wayne is silent for a long time. Then $5,000 standard offer, Duke.

 Accidental death, no liability. Pete left behind a wife and three kids. We know. That’s why we’re offering anything at all. Legally, we don’t have to. Wayne hangs up, sits on the edge of the bed, thinks about his own kids, seven of them. Different marriages, different lives, but all his. What if he died? What if someone told his kids their father was worth $5,000? He picks up the phone, calls his business manager.

 How much cash can I access today? Linda Keller is sitting at her kitchen table 48 hours later. The settlement papers are still there, unsigned. She’s read them a hundred times. The lawyer called twice, reminding her the deadline is today. 5,000 or nothing. She needs [music] the money. Can’t pay the mortgage without it. Can’t feed her kids.

 But signing feels like saying Pete was only worth $5,000. There’s a knock on the door. Linda opens it. John Wayne is standing there. She recognizes him instantly. Everyone does, but she doesn’t understand why he’s here. Mrs. Keller. Yes. I’m John Wayne. I need to talk to you about Pete. Linda lets him in.

 He sits at the same kitchen table where the lawyer sat 2 days ago. But Wayne doesn’t pull out papers. He just looks at her. I’m sorry about Pete. He was a good man. Linda nods, doesn’t trust herself to speak. I heard about the studio’s offer. $5,000. That’s an insult. Linda’s eyes fill with tears. I don’t know what to do. I need the money.

 But if I sign, it feels like I’m saying Pete didn’t matter. Wayne reaches into his jacket, pulls out an envelope, places it on the table. This is $50,000. It’s from me, not the studio. From me personally, for you and your kids. Linda stares at the envelope. [music] Can’t process what she’s hearing. I can’t accept this. Yes, you can.

 Pete died making my movie. He died because I’m too old to do my own stunts anymore. That makes it my responsibility. Mr. Wayne, you don’t owe me anything. Yes, I do. Pete died being me. The least I can do is take care of the family he left behind. But Wayne isn’t finished. [music] He pulls out a business card, writes a phone number on it.

 This is the studio head’s direct line. I’m calling him today. Universal is going to set up a monthly stipend for you. $500 a month for life. And they’re going to create college funds for all three of your kids, full tuition, wherever they want to go. Linda is crying now. Why would they do that? Wayne’s jaw tightens. Because I’m going to tell them if they don’t, I’m walking off every picture I owe them.

 And I’ll make sure every newspaper in America knows why. Wayne calls the studio head that afternoon. The conversation lasts 30 minutes. Wayne doesn’t yell, doesn’t threaten, just lays out the facts. Pete Keller died making a Universal Picture. Left behind a widow and three kids. The studio offered $5,000. That’s not acceptable.

 The studio head tries to explain. Liability, insurance, standard practice. Wayne cuts him off. I don’t care about standard practice. I care about right and wrong. Pete died working for you. His family deserves better than $5,000 and a handshake. What do you want, Duke? 500 a month for Linda for the rest of her life and college funds for the kids. All three of them.

Full tuition. That’s going to cost us. I know what it costs. Do it anyway or I walk every picture. [music] Green berets. True grit. Everything you’ve got me signed for. I’m done. Silence on the line. The studio head is calculating. John Wayne is Universal’s biggest star. His pictures make millions.

 Losing him would cost the studio more than a lifetime stipend for one widow. Fine, we’ll do it. I want it in writing, contract, legal, so nobody can take it back after I’m gone. You’ll have it by Monday. Wayne hangs up, sits back in his chair. It’s not enough. Nothing will bring Pete back. But at least his kids can go to college.

 At least Linda won’t lose her house. At least the studio can’t pretend Pete didn’t matter. Linda Keller receives her first stipen check 6 weeks later. $500 every month like clockwork. Her mortgage is 700 a month. The stipend covers most of it. [music] Wayne’s $50,000 covers the rest and food and clothes and everything three kids need while their mother figures out how to live without their father. Linda never remarries.

 [music] doesn’t want to. Pete was her person. She raises the kids alone, works part-time at a grocery store, [music] takes the stipend every month, and doesn’t take it for granted. Every check reminds her that someone fought for her family when the system wanted to forget them. All three kids go to college. The oldest becomes a teacher.

 The middle one becomes an engineer. [music] The youngest becomes a doctor. Universal Pictures pays for all of it because John Wayne made them. Linda receives that stipend for 37 years until she dies in 2003 at 71 years old. 37 years of $500 a month. That’s $222,000 plus the $50,000 from Wayne plus three college educations.

 That’s what [music] Pete Keller’s life was really worth. Not $5,000, not an insult and a deadline, but a lifetime of dignity for the family he left behind. In 2005, Linda’s daughter writes a letter to the John Wayne estate. Her name is Sarah Keller. She’s 43 years old now, a high school history teacher in San Diego.

 She writes about her father, about the day he died, about the studio lawyer who offered $5,000, about John Wayne showing up at their kitchen table. My mother received that stipend until the day she died. every month for 37 years. We went to college because of it. We kept our home because of it. My mother kept her dignity because someone fought for her when she had no fight left. Duke didn’t know us.

We were strangers, but he saw my mother’s pain and decided it mattered. [music] He used his power to force a studio to do the right thing. Not because he had to, because he chose to. My father died making movies, but John Wayne made sure we didn’t die with him. I teach my students about power and how people use it.

 I tell them about the day a movie star walked away from a red carpet to fight for a widow. That’s how you measure a man. Not by what he has, but by what he gives to people who can’t give back. The letter is in the John Wayne Museum now. [music] next to a photo of Pete Keller. Next to the settlement papers Universal wanted Linda to sign.

 Next to Wayne’s personal check for $50,000. If this story moved you, hit that subscribe button and drop a like. Leave a comment below. What do you think about what John Wayne did for Linda and her family? We’d love to hear your thoughts. And unfortunately, they don’t make men like John Wayne anymore.