Kick a few rocks down the empty roads and pull
down the cob webs – you are sure to hear the stories whispered from the
graveyards and lonely houses.
Playing in Park City-
Charming mining town...Our summer adventure in Park
City, Utah was certainly not calculated or organized, but rather spontaneous
and delightful. But for certain, I was drawn to the history of this little
mining town turned ski resort destination.
Unlike most Utah communities,
Park City was not settled by Mormons. In
fact, in 1847 the Mormons just skimmed by the Parley’s Park (present day Park
City) en route to the Salt Lake Valley.
In 1862, Federal Troops were sent to guard The U.S. Mail and watch over
the “saints” who might side with the Confederates. In hopes to weaken the Mormon voice, Colonel
Conner sends soldiers to prospect in the local hills hoping that a strike would
draw others to this mountain and dilute the Mormon population.
Silver was discovered in 1868
followed by zinc, lead, and gold. In 1869, the transcontinental railroad reaches
Parley’s Park City and by 1870 the population of this small
village reaches 164. This was just the beginning as the opening of the Ontario
mine starts a “boom” town.
Parley’s Park city becomes Park City and was
officially recognized as in incorporated city in 1884 and within five years the
town reached a population of 5,000. By
the year 1898 the town doubled its population to 10,000 but tragedy envelops
Park City in flames as a kitchen fire wipes out ¾ of the city.
It took a mere 1 ½ years to
rebuild the town. Within the next decade,
Park City falls upon hard times due to flooded tunnels and cave-ins
weakening the mining industry.
By 1920 skiing made its debut
in Park city marked the expansion of tourism and the Arts in this beautiful “mining
town.” Mining gradually dies out and by
1949 all the mines are shut down and Park City is recognized as a ghost town by
1951. However, by 1981 with the opening
of the Deer Valley Resort skiing arrives to stay in Park City. In 2002, Park City hosted multiple events in
the XIX Winter Olympic Games.
And finally, in 1008 Forbes
Traveler Magazine names Park City one of America’s 20 prettiest towns.
Small Town Tale- Escalante Utah
Escalante, Utah for most is not a destination, but part of a journey- a journey which traverses thousands and thousands of acres of the most beautiful undiscovered country in the western United States. This scenic landscape is a place where a camera is in demand around every bend and turn in the road.
Escalante is home to the Grand Staircase- Escalante National Monument museum. With such a monument as its backdrop, Escalante lies on somewhat of a frontier where the rugged landscape consists of plateaus and multi hued cliffs run for distances on end. No doubt that is why this region was the last of the Continental United States to be mapped. It is also why Escalante’s neighboring town of Boulder was the last to receive its mail by mule train.
This journey via scenic Byway Utah Route 12 takes the traveler to Hell’s backbone, Powell Point, Boyonton Overlook, and The Hogback. This place is paradise for the artist, geologist, and outdoor enthusiast.
However, for those who are generational residents of Escalante this austere landscape is home. It is a place where solitude and beauty play a duet and the product is a tune which has echoed throughout the ages. It was Silvestre Velez de Escalante who first explored this region in 1776 with his superior Francisco Atansio Dominguez. They had left Santa Fe, New Mexico attempting to reach Monterey, California. Their Journey marked the first entrance of Utah by white men. This journey became known as the Dominguez-Escalante Expedition.
It wasn’t until the mid 1860′s that feet were once again recorded passing through this land as members of the Southern Utah Militia under Captain James Andrus during the Black Hawk Indian War. In 1872, members of the John Wesley Powell expedition met a group of settlers from Panguitch exploring the area. It was he that recommended to the settlers that the place be named Escalante in honor of the 1776 expedition led by Escalante himself. It wasn’t until 1875 that the area was finally settled.
Quiet and solitude are the words best used to describe the 2010 settlement of Escalante. On a Sunday morning the main drag of Escalante is without patrons. Passers- by may pump gas, but the convenience store is closed. However, the beauty which surrounds the community hums its own Sabbath Song. Set on exploration, I roamed the hushed streets, and learned of its history.
On a side street there is a beautiful little park which houses a memorial to all of the men from Escalante who have served their country. This little town boasts its fair share of veterans
Perhaps, in the humming of its historical tune you may hear the Desert Mystery of the young Everett Ruess. The twenty-two-year- old artist-poet-explorer from California left Escalante with his two burros and melted into the desert and canyons of the Escalante River never to return. He loved the open air and the adventure of the wild country embedded in the mountains and canyons of this frontier land.
In one of his last letters written from Escalante he wrote: ” Dear Father and Mother: After a truly delightful trip over the mountains, finding my way without any trails, I have reached the Mormon town of Escalante. I am going south toward the river now through some rather wild country… The water is very low this year. I may even come back through Boulder. So I may not have a post office for a couple of months. I am taking an ample supply of food with me.”
“I have had plenty of fun with the boys of this town riding horses, hunting for arrowheads, and the like. I took a couple of the boys to the show last night-”Death Takes a Holiday.” I liked it well as the play, enjoying the music especially.
“I promised you some picture and am sending a few of them now, as it will lighten the load and they are getting travel-stained…”
“Tonight I have been sitting by the fire with two of my friends (Norman Christensen and Merrill Porter), eating roast venison and baked potatoes. The burrow bell is tinkling merrily nearby Chocolatero crops alfalfa. He is a good burro now…
“So tomorrow I take the trail again and the canyon south.
Love, from Everett
The mysterious disappearance of Everett Reuss, today still goes unsolved. The people of Escalante searched for him like he was their very own son. His expedition was given daily coverage by the Salt Lake Tribune, and the Los Angeles Evening Herald gave an account of his disappearance on Feb 14. His parents embarked upon the 2400- mile trip that included Escalante and all the places he had been. Reuss was a likable and gifted boy. His trail simply went cold at what was presumed to be his last camp. An inscription on the wall of the cave read NEMO 1934.
There are many theories that chart this mystery, but perhaps its ending is best said by the pen of the man himself… Everett Reuss
If I only live to see again
To mix and match
My colors to the visioned splendors
I’ve failed to catch.
Reuss captured the colors of Escalante and its surrounding frontier in his poems and sketches. He, like so many others who pass by this wondrous land are drawn to and captured by its breathtaking beauty. It is a land of mystery a land to which Reuss himself lost his life in exploration. Perhaps the theory many would like to believe concerning his whereabouts is that he is still out there roaming the hills and reaching another peak. After all this was his pledge:
“Here in utter stillness,
High on the lonely cliff-edge,
Where the air is trembling with lightning,
I have given the wind my pledge.”
Source: The Escalante Story 1875-1964 by Nethella Griffin Woolsey
Escalante is home to the Grand Staircase- Escalante National Monument museum. With such a monument as its backdrop, Escalante lies on somewhat of a frontier where the rugged landscape consists of plateaus and multi hued cliffs run for distances on end. No doubt that is why this region was the last of the Continental United States to be mapped. It is also why Escalante’s neighboring town of Boulder was the last to receive its mail by mule train.
This journey via scenic Byway Utah Route 12 takes the traveler to Hell’s backbone, Powell Point, Boyonton Overlook, and The Hogback. This place is paradise for the artist, geologist, and outdoor enthusiast.
However, for those who are generational residents of Escalante this austere landscape is home. It is a place where solitude and beauty play a duet and the product is a tune which has echoed throughout the ages. It was Silvestre Velez de Escalante who first explored this region in 1776 with his superior Francisco Atansio Dominguez. They had left Santa Fe, New Mexico attempting to reach Monterey, California. Their Journey marked the first entrance of Utah by white men. This journey became known as the Dominguez-Escalante Expedition.
It wasn’t until the mid 1860′s that feet were once again recorded passing through this land as members of the Southern Utah Militia under Captain James Andrus during the Black Hawk Indian War. In 1872, members of the John Wesley Powell expedition met a group of settlers from Panguitch exploring the area. It was he that recommended to the settlers that the place be named Escalante in honor of the 1776 expedition led by Escalante himself. It wasn’t until 1875 that the area was finally settled.Quiet and solitude are the words best used to describe the 2010 settlement of Escalante. On a Sunday morning the main drag of Escalante is without patrons. Passers- by may pump gas, but the convenience store is closed. However, the beauty which surrounds the community hums its own Sabbath Song. Set on exploration, I roamed the hushed streets, and learned of its history.
On a side street there is a beautiful little park which houses a memorial to all of the men from Escalante who have served their country. This little town boasts its fair share of veterans
Perhaps, in the humming of its historical tune you may hear the Desert Mystery of the young Everett Ruess. The twenty-two-year- old artist-poet-explorer from California left Escalante with his two burros and melted into the desert and canyons of the Escalante River never to return. He loved the open air and the adventure of the wild country embedded in the mountains and canyons of this frontier land.
In one of his last letters written from Escalante he wrote: ” Dear Father and Mother: After a truly delightful trip over the mountains, finding my way without any trails, I have reached the Mormon town of Escalante. I am going south toward the river now through some rather wild country… The water is very low this year. I may even come back through Boulder. So I may not have a post office for a couple of months. I am taking an ample supply of food with me.”
“I have had plenty of fun with the boys of this town riding horses, hunting for arrowheads, and the like. I took a couple of the boys to the show last night-”Death Takes a Holiday.” I liked it well as the play, enjoying the music especially.
“I promised you some picture and am sending a few of them now, as it will lighten the load and they are getting travel-stained…”
“Tonight I have been sitting by the fire with two of my friends (Norman Christensen and Merrill Porter), eating roast venison and baked potatoes. The burrow bell is tinkling merrily nearby Chocolatero crops alfalfa. He is a good burro now…
“So tomorrow I take the trail again and the canyon south.
Love, from Everett
The mysterious disappearance of Everett Reuss, today still goes unsolved. The people of Escalante searched for him like he was their very own son. His expedition was given daily coverage by the Salt Lake Tribune, and the Los Angeles Evening Herald gave an account of his disappearance on Feb 14. His parents embarked upon the 2400- mile trip that included Escalante and all the places he had been. Reuss was a likable and gifted boy. His trail simply went cold at what was presumed to be his last camp. An inscription on the wall of the cave read NEMO 1934.
There are many theories that chart this mystery, but perhaps its ending is best said by the pen of the man himself… Everett Reuss
If I only live to see again
To mix and match
My colors to the visioned splendors
I’ve failed to catch.
Reuss captured the colors of Escalante and its surrounding frontier in his poems and sketches. He, like so many others who pass by this wondrous land are drawn to and captured by its breathtaking beauty. It is a land of mystery a land to which Reuss himself lost his life in exploration. Perhaps the theory many would like to believe concerning his whereabouts is that he is still out there roaming the hills and reaching another peak. After all this was his pledge:
“Here in utter stillness,
High on the lonely cliff-edge,
Where the air is trembling with lightning,
I have given the wind my pledge.”
Source: The Escalante Story 1875-1964 by Nethella Griffin Woolsey
Balboa Island
So today, I am still currently craving bikes on Balboa Island - Anyone care to join me?
Crystal Cove
It has been said that Crystal Cove is a place filled with memories. The historic district is definitely a must stop on your California " to do" list. The oldest building dates to 1921 and of the 46 homes here, 21 were built after 1926. 1926 was the year this quiet paradise became accessible by cars.
A small museum at the cove charts the history of this beautiful little place. Amongst the relics were vintage pieces I would die for... typewriter, adding machine, stove and TV. Although the TV was from another era, our children were nonetheless entranced by its black and white movie it displayed.
We came to Newport on a weekend that sent the media gasping with alerts of storms and flooding. We still came.... lucky for us we experienced great solitude and created life long memories with our fabulous five and grandma and grandpa Weaver. Crystal Cove... quaint, quiet, reverie!
Grandma and Grandpa Weaver. In the distance you can see the beach house from the 1988 film Beaches. Yet another reason I love this place!
I love this color!
Our oldest found peace along the shoreline as he threw stones into the mouth of the beckoning waves...
I was content to watch them play...
Some say she died a broken heart. Ann Gillies Parker was the mother of the infamous Robert LeRoy Parker alias Butch Cassidy. Ann, spent her final days in Circleville. She was a devout Mormon known for her prayerful heart and deep and abiding faith. Robert LeRoy was the oldest of eleven children born to Ann and Maximillian on April 13, 1866. LeRoy, grandson of Mormon handcart pioneer and bishop, by all the hopes and dreams of his mother’s destined to live the typical life of a young boy on the great western frontier. However, candy pulls, shooting competitions, and horse races would take on new meaning for this “Robin Hood of the West.”
After moving from Beaver to a homestead just outside of Circleville, Utah the family experienced a shift in economics forcing Maximillian to chop wood for the coke ovens in the mining town of Frisco just west of Beaver. Ann was contracted by Jim Marshall to run his dairy just 12 miles south of the Parker Farm.
It was during Robert Leroy’s stay at the dairy that he met Mike Cassidy, the man from which he would take his alias. Cassidy was a drifter who worked at the dairy ranch. Without a father figure present, Robert sought out Cassidy and learned his trade- gun handling and rustling of cattle and horses. It was at Robber’s Roost, the popular outlaw hideout on the Outlaw Trail that Butch Cassidy hid the cattle he rustled. It wasn’t long before Parker quickly learned the art of changing brands on cattle from Cassidy. A trick he performed all too often. In fact, it was this delinquent behavior that started him running with a rough crowd. He and two other local ruffians put their own brand on some maverick stock. Because of this incident, Parker in turn was branded an outlaw and at the age of 18 he fled Circle Valley. Shortly thereafter, Parker teamed up with Tom McCarty, and Matt Warner in the $10,500 heist of the Telluride County bank in Colorado and thus began his life as the invincible outlaw.
The original corral still remains at Robber’s Roost along with the stone chimney just outside of Circleville. It is a place where echoes of myths and legends are hard to separate from fact and fiction. Following the bank robbery in Colorado, Cassidy spent some time in Wyoming where he worked as a butcher. From this point on, he dubbed himself as “Butch” Cassidy. The unfriendly terrain, steep walled canyons and hidden ravines surrounding Robber’s Roost became a hideout for Cassidy and The Wild Bunch.
Butch Cassidy is the most notable resident of the central Utah community of Circleville. But his stories are not the only “black sheep stories” which spring from this sleepy little town. Most local histories don’t site the reason for which Circleville was abandoned in 1866 after its original settlement date in 1864.
It was May 1866 when the famed Circleville Massacre transpired. The valley was entrenched in the famed Black Hawk war when an attack on neighboring Marysvale transpired. Unnerved residents, fearing a clash with the nearby Paiute encampment, tricked the Paiutes into joining them at a town meeting and then quickly and forcibly disarmed them. While some believe what followed was a grave misunderstanding, others saw it as “the greatest single tragedy” of the war. Men women and children were slaughtered in the most gruesome manner. Shortly after, fearing retaliation from the Indians settlers were counseled to leave Circleville.
Some settlers returned in 1873 and the town was re-established in 1874. The town of Circleville takes its name from the “Circle Valley” in which it resides. The valley is surrounded by mountains except where the Sevier River crisscrosses the valley on the north and south.
It never has been all smiles and sunshine for Circleville residents. Early pioneers cite their first encounter with the Paiutes as friendly but listed the wind as their arch enemy making life most uncomfortable. Today Circleville is the greatest playground in Central Utah. While its roots are deeply set in agriculture, recreation now delights its visitors. Both the Paiute ATV Trail and the Paunsagaunt Trails are accessible via Circleville. Hiking horseback riding, rock collecting and the scenery welcome its visitors to stop and play. And if that isn’t enough, drive out to Robber’s Roost and take a gander at the old corral. Who knows, maybe you will find Ann Parker’s bleeding heart amongst the rubble.
I often daydream of spending Christmas in the country; sipping hot chocolate while being pulled in a horse drawn sleigh jingling with bells as church bells chime. Southern Utah hosts the perfect Christmas village for such a dream — Pine Valley.
During the summer months the church is still used for meetings making it one of the longest and most continuously used buildings by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. The Pine Valley Chapel continues to be one of the most attractive structures in the state of Utah. The structural beams used to construct the building are most unique and its exterior continues to lull visitors to this scenic wonderland. In the past this chapel was the centerpiece of this small town, as was it the centerpiece of the Mormons’ religious life. It was here members took part in priesthood and Relief Society activities, Sunday meetings such as monthly fast and testimony meeting, the dressing of members for burial, and primary activities for the children. This meetinghouse was also the overall centerpiece for Pine Valley’s other activities including weddings, births, missionary farewells, deaths, sewing bees, quilt making, and visiting. Life here was rich and communal.
It was only happenstance that this unique gem, Pine Valley, was even found. In fact, as the stories go, it was a cow that brought the community of Pine Valley into existence. In the summer of 1855, Isaac Riddle and William Hamblin were searching for a lost cow which had wandered from the church herd. The two had been following the Santa Clara river in search of the cow when they came upon the most beautiful green valley. They were amazed by the lushness and the thick blanket of grass. In fact, grass rose as high as their horses’ knees. Pines and aspens lined both sides of the valley making it a marvel to behold.
News of the discovery spread fast and in 1855 Robert Richey, Lorenzo Roundy and Jehu Blackburn built a sawmill. Charles Dalton was the first to seek timber and water rights in Pine Valley in September of 1856. John D. Lee presided over the probate court at the time. It was under his jurisdiction that land allotments were made legal. While milling continued over the years, it was gardening which eventually turned into serious agriculture that kept the community thriving. The agriculture flourished thanks to the ample water supply to the valley. At its peak Pine Valley grew to a community of 300 people as well as a summer retreat for Southern Utahns. It was the closest thing to “air conditioning” offered in Utah’s Dixie.
Today Pine Valley continues to be a spillover community, a summer retreat and a vacation spot. The valley’s beauty is transcended only by the encircling Pine Valley mountains. Whether it be summer or spring, winter or fall, it is a great place to stop and dream, as for me and my dreams we will be home for the holidays in Pine Valley humming the melody “I’ll be home for Christmas” while gazing out the window for the horse drawn sleigh and listening to the bells of the historic Pine Valley chapel.
Parowan
Christmas in the Country
On December 23, 1938 the Publishers of the “Parowan Times” issued this Christmas greeting: “The good will of our patrons and friends is one of our most valuable assets. The spirit of the season brings renewed appreciation of old associates and of the value of new friends. May your Christmas season be happy and success attend your New Year.”
Suddenly the year is 1938, and Lucile, 89, is at the Brown Derby in Parowan. She smiles as the lyrics to "Begin the Beguine” (Artie Shaw’s #1- 18 week U.S. Billboard chart topper) echo in her heart. It is there she explains that she met Ora, her sweetheart. "You know that was quite a place in its day. There was dance there every Saturday night."
Lucile reminisces about the holidays of 1938. The Brown Derby was alive with music. The dance hall was the gathering place for young people from Milford, Beaver, Cedar, and Paragonah, but others found their way to the Brown Derby as well. She chuckles as she recounts the holiday night she met Ora. Ora Hofheins, was older and, by his account, quite a lady's man. As he and his buddies stood at the doorway, he proudly stated that he could get any girl in the place to let him see her home. He was promptly taken up on the bet; they challenged him that he couldn't take Lucille Evans home.
After sharing several dances together, she agreed to let Ora see her home. After all, several of his friends had danced by and called him "bishop." With a nickname like that, how could she go wrong (It was only later that she discovered that they affectionately called him the "Bishop of Devil's creek")?
However, the dance ended and Lucile was no where to be found. It seems she found out that Ora had already seen many other girls home that same evening. Ora loved a challenge, and he was undeterred. It was at the Brown Derby at the weekend dances that he courted her. The couple was married September 20, 1939.
Today the Brown Derby still stands. The story of Ora and Lucile is just one of many romances whose seeds were planted while music played in this old time dance hall. A sign hangs above the door "Brown Derby est." Standing in front of it, one hears music echo and stories told. This small town boasts a history dating backing to the mid part of the 19th century. The holiday season nears and on one a winter's Saturday afternoon, the town is dusted with a fresh snow and the stories of the community are waiting to be heard.
Jesse N. Smith Home Museum: Smith was born in Stockholm, New York and was the third of three sons born to Silas Smith and Mary Aikens. He bears a strong pioneer lineage. Smith served as the Mayor of Parowan in 1859 and as a member of the Utah Territorial Legislature in 1856.
Old Rock Church- Built in 1861, this pioneer chapel was built by the fortitude of its settlers. This historic building was constructed of fine yellow sandstone and limestone and the finest timber for lumber all found at the mouth of the canyon. The work of this building was donated by Francis T. Whitney's homemade nails and local artisans stone masons, plasterers, and carpenters. It is a relic which is maintained by the local chapter of the Daughters of the Utah Pioneers. Inside, visitors will find the "jewels" of the town and hear the stories of the people who founded it.
The Sundial Marker: On Historic Main you will find a reproduction of the original sundial placed here by settlers under the direction of George A. Smith in 1882. Sundials were devices used to measure time by the sun's shadow. This stop reminds visitors that Parowan is truly a place for time to slow down.
The Parowan Cafe: Even the locals don't know when this stop had its beginning. The smell of hometown cooking will lure passers-by in to sit down and enjoy food cafe style and the taste will definitely keep guests coming back. Stops here have become a tradition for anniversaries, birthdays, and family dinners. It is definitely a historic marker "must visit" on the old historic main street of Parowan.
William Holyoak home (originally the Benson Home, it was bought by William Holyoak in 1877): Built sometime in the 1860's, the home is still adorned in Holyoak's original landscape. Holyoak was born in beautiful Birmingham, England. It was there where the grass was green all year that Holyoak fell in love with bushes, shrubs, and flowers. He was the first to landscape his yard with grass, shurbs, and a hedge. Holyoak had the first snow-balls, and honeysuckles in Parowan. Pass by on a spring day and the scent of these historical snow-balls fill the air.
The building on the east side of the property was once house Holyoak's harness shop. In England at the age of 11, Holyoak was bound out to learn this trade and brought it with him to the Parowan Valley. He also sold mercantile goods at the shop along with medicine that any of locals might need.
Holyoak served as mayor of Parowan in 1887, and from 1890-1896. It was during his last term that he conceived the idea of beautifying the town square. He planted 200 beautiful trees on the public square. (Bernell Evans, the great- grandson is the present day honor of the home. While the home has been remodeled, the architecture is its original and the landscape was that of William Holyoak's own hands.
Nestled in the mountains of Southern Utah, the first explorers to leave footprints in Parowan were Father Escalante and Father Dominguez. Beckoned by wealth and adventure Jedediah Smith was the first white man to pass through Iron County. Mormon pioneers moved southward and made Parowan the first settlement in Iron County in 1851. Today it blends old time tradition with present-day small town hospitality. A trip to Parowan leaves visitors in awe. As a small community, it is a jewel. It serves as a year round gateway to Brian Head and Cedar Breaks National Monument. Its elevation is 5,970 feet and in the early 90's its population was 1, 873.
Parowan was once was a kaleidoscope of action as the locals took part in a array of activities including: wood hauler's dances, spinning bees, shooting matches, rabbit hunts, bobsled races, May Day activities, corn husking, log raisings, spelling matches and many more. The original settlers made work fun. Work was at the heart of their social life. Life in Parowan today runs at a different pace, but it remains a place of bliss. Soon it will be Christmas in the Country in Utah’s Parowan, and the streets of Parowan will be fresh with morning snow. Remember to turn off Main Street and head east toward the Brown Derby. Perhaps, Artie Shaw’s song will be playing again while Ora and Lucille "cut a rug."
Note: Lucile and Ora are my grandparents. Lucile is the descendant of William Holyoak mentioned in this piece.
( A bit of
perspective- In 1938, the first Superman comic was published, Snow White came to the screen, and Adolf Hitler was named Time Magazine’s “Most Influential, Man of the Year. )
Christmas in the Country: Parowan ushers in the holiday season with the town’s traditional activities November 29-30, 2013.
Saturday morning, November 30, 2013 Santa Parade
Saturday, 6pm Candlelight walking parade- A treasured tradition, Community members gather on main street with candles and are led by Joseph and Mary. Mary rides a top a donkey. Christmas carols fall from the lips of the participants as they journey to center square. At this point, the lights of this quiet country town ignite. This event is followed by Parowan’s finest talent performing at the local theater on Main Street.
Note: Lucile and Ora are my grandparents. Lucile is the descendant of William Holyoak mentioned in this piece.
Moonlit graveyard tour
I love graveyards. They seem to sing the history of its city. I like to wander through them. I love to read the names and wonder what type of lives the buried person(s) led. So lucky was I to come upon my local cemetery's date for its Halloween Moonlit historical tour. Not knowing what to expect, I was surprised by the variety and the number of people which joined this tour. The ambiance was perfect for the approaching Halloween Holiday
Francis Webster is quoted for having said the following in regards to the Willie Handcart compy in a Sunday School Class in the old rock church towards the end of his life, “I ask you to stop this criticism. You are discussing a matter you know nothing about. Cold historic facts mean nothing here, for they give no proper interpretation of the questions involved. Mistake to send the handcart company out so late in the season? Yes. But I was in that company and my wife was in it and Sister Nellie Unthank whom you have cited was there too. We suffered beyond anything you can imagine, and many died of exposure and starvation, but did you ever hear a survivor of that company utter a word of criticism? Not one of that company ever apostatized or left the Church, because everyone of us came through with the absolute knowledge that God lives, for we became acquainted with him in our extremities.”
As a member of this community, he was instrumental in bringing the sheep industry town as well as helping to oversee the building of the local college. It was an honor to have visited his grave!
Many pioneer communities were founded on music. Cedar City was no different. Joseph Cosslett was the cultural icon of his era serving as the first choir director in this newly founded settlement. Music lifted the spirits of the weary. Joseph was loved by the members of this town. He was a renowned musician who also wrote the beloved hymn, "We'll Sing All Hail to Jesus's name." Inscribed on his headstone is the following: " A tribute of love from your associates, the Cedar City Choir, and a grateful public for a life of faithful service."
Time has worn the headstones of many graves here. Some have crumbled others have been ruined by water.
Beaver, Utah — Quiet Country, Rich History
By: Amyanne Rigby
Photos by Amyanne Rigby
Preface
“Stand perfectly still and don’t worry they are just as afraid of you as you are of them, “ my grandfather instructed as I was given my spot on the pasture. The closer they came, the more afraid I was. But I stood my ground even as these massive animals came toe to toe with my five-year-old frame. I tried the stare down effect and as their eyes met mine their tongues fell from their mouths like long pieces of red licorice. Sure enough they turned into the corral when they approached the line marked by me and my siblings. Today was branding day at the Hofheins Farm. This is a long ago memory which is forever etched in my mind. I have few of my grandfather as a cowboy after this day. When I was five my grandfather was caught in a post hole digger, his neck broke, and he barely lived. In the 1980’s like many rural Utah farmers the farms was lost to “big dreams” and overextending one’s resources. That was a sad day for our family.
Thankfully, we still had grandfather in his recliner to recount story after story beginning with he and his brother’s desire to leave the family trade of masonry behind and become farmers. They were successful and their acreage grew. Grandpa told me endless stories of riding the range with grandma’s lipstick on to protect his lips, his cowboy hat a top his head, and his chaps protecting his legs. I could get lost in his stories.
I have come to Beaver since my birth to visit my grandparents. It was in their small white frame home with the scent of manure lingering that I discovered years before the nation ever knew that Beaver did indeed have the best drinking water. However, I had always thought it was because of Grandma’s tin cups that it tasted so good. Over the years, our family grew and decreased in number as time marched by us. Some of the stories are pleasant and some rather painful. But I had always thought that even after Grandpa passed that she would be there in that one frame home quilting behind the lace curtains. But Grandma passed away last year and I had not returned to Beaver’s quiet for a year.
One this day in June, I returned with my mom and my two youngest children. We ate curd from the famous Beaver Cache Valley Cheese, watched the horses out to pasture, heard the bell chime and stopped at the red light in the center of town (it has only been in existence for six months). I discovered Beaver from a different perspective. Perhaps, as one returning home. In my ramblings I hope you feel the quiet of this town. The quiet peace that has echoed in my heart for nearly four decades.
The bell of the county courthouse still chimes every hour on the hour here, peacocks are known to wander aimlessly down the busiest road in town, there is only one stop light, and it boasts the best drinking water in the nation. But more than that Beaver is quiet.
Beaver was settled in 1856, when the Mormon apostle, George A. Smith called 15 men and their families from Parowan to establish a settlement in Beaver. It was the lush valleys and rich soil which first drew the settlers to this haven. Today, the history of this town can be traced through the architecture of its buildings.
Beaver’s pink rock houses were made from adobe until the mid 1880’s when the first bricks were fired by the Patterson family along the South Creek where a rich clay deposit was found. In 1868 stone masons came to town led by Thomas Frazer. Frazer’s black rock structures were less expensive than the brick but superior in quality to the adobe. As late as 1999, sixteen of Frazer’ s stone houses still stood.
Both the Beaver County Courthouse and the Beaver Opera House capture the culmination and craftsmanship of early architecture. But homes in both the pink rock and black rocks are still standing today.
The Sleepy Blue Lagoon on the south side of town beckoned wandering tourists until nearly a decade ago when it caught on fire. But before it came to town there were Beaver’s first two notable hotels which beckoned the weary traveler. The Thompson Hotel and the Low Hotel were the first hotel establishments in Beaver. However, these hotels served mostly as boarding homes to the miners and other workers. Fort Cameron also brought an influx of passersby to this thought to be sleepy town. Fort Cameron was a military base established in 1872 at the mouth of Beaver Canyon in efforts to squash Indian uprisings. An African American couple ran The Lee Boarding House above Charley’s Saloon. The Lees came to town because of the Fort and housed many of the workers from Fort Cameron. While Beaver was settled by the Mormons it has a colorful past shaped by its residents, some who stayed for short period while others stayed for generations.
Those adding to the color of Beaver’s “story” are its two most notable citizens who call Beaver their birthplace. The first was the infamous Butch Cassidy who lived in Beaver for a very brief time. The other was Philo T. Farnsworth who called the streets of Beaver home until age thirteen. Farnsworth is credited as the “father of the television” for his “image dissector” which he first drew for his high school teacher, Justin Tolman, at age 16. Today, a statue of Farnsworth stands on the grounds of the County Courthouse in Beaver.
Education in Beaver was an evolving process. In the 1860’s the Methodists opened schools with the initiative of providing a better quality education for Mormon children and perhaps convert them along the way. In 1886 the Mormon Church established their own school naming it Beaver Stake Academy. At the Academy, children were taught during the day while adults were educated in the evenings. This was the first church school south of Provo. In 1888 when the Utah Territorial Legislature tightened its belt, drastic organizational and financial changes were instituted in Beaver’s school. Unable to compete with this new free school system, the Academy closed its doors in 1890. In 1909 a two story red brick school house was constructed and educated children in eight divisions. Up to this point in time, following eighth grade there was no high school offered. However, the Beaver Branch of Brigham Young Academy was opened in September 1898 under the leadership of two Mormon general authorities. When Fort Cameron was abandoned, the church became owner of the land and it was here that the Academy was housed. Later the name was changed to the Murdock Academy and continued educating high school age children throughout the region until 1922 when the doors closed due to the creation of public high schools.
Recreation in Beaver’s early pioneer days was marked by parades and dances. The favored dances of the day were the quadrille, the waltz, the polka and scotch reel. The music was generated from fiddles, organs and accordions. During the winter months, dances were held in houses and churches but when the weather warmed dances were held in barns, under boweries, and even in candle lit fields. Besides the typical wedding dances and church dances, Beaver residents held wood dances (dances held to help the widows. Young men chopped wood in exchange for the price of an admission ticket) and basket dances ( the young women and girls decorated baskets and then filled them with delicious picnic lunches. The baskets were auctioned off to the highest bidder who won the basket and a lunch with its lady). In 1876 baseball came to town as the “Rough and Ready” and the “Resolutes” suited up to display their skills. Other sporting events were somewhat informal as the men gathered near the lake’s shore for a skipping rock competition. Parades likewise caused a reason for Beaver residents to gather and generated great enthusiasm. The Pioneer Day Parade and the 4th of July depicted events from early Utah and United States history. Even today, these parades have few peers amongst the neighboring communities.
Beaver’s history is anything but quiet. But along the banks of its water and amongst the rubble of past buildings there is an echo. The crickets sing of it in the twilight and farm animals hum its song during the day. The tune is simply called quiet. It’s a thoughtful town with a peacock, a chiming bell, delicious drinking water, and one stop light. It is Beaver with one large American Flag.
