Tales from Torrey
and of Capitol Reef
by James H. Knipmeyer

Part III— 1969:Home

My return to my new “family” in Torrey was actually sooner than I would have expected. In May of 1969, I had completed college, and my graduation gift from my “rich” aunt was a ten-day raft trip down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. On my way out through the Navajo Indian Reservation, I had purchased two hand-woven rugs, and when I got off the river at the end of the float I was broke. Well, not quite. I had a grand total of 64 cents, and it was at least a two-day drive home. So, in the end, I decided to go up to Torrey to my new Utah family and wire home for some extra cash from my parents.

I drove to Torrey by way of Kanab and Koosharem, coming in from the west. I got to the Chuck Wagon Café & Motel about dinnertime and was treated to a fine supper. I visited with everyone until the café closed, and the Elletts headed home to Bicknell. That night I slept in the backseat of my car out in the parking area next to the motel.

In the morning when I went into the café for breakfast, LaVoy asked me where I had spent the night. When I told him, he got downright angry and said that was the most foolish thing he had ever heard of. He promptly took me upstairs in the back of the motel and ensconced me in the same room, Number 5, that Mike Martin, my brother, and I had occupied last year. And he didn’t want to hear anything about payment until the money arrived that my parents were sending!

That evening, after dinner, different people came into the café, some just to visit. Two of them were Jean Garrison and June Carroll. Both ladies taught at junior colleges in the Los Angeles area. June taught geology, thus her nickname “Rocky.” In fact, that was how she was introduced to me. Nobody called her June, and I did not learn her correct given name until sometime later. Jean had a little shack, as she herself called it, for a summer place in Teasdale, a little town a few miles away. Rocky had just bought a place in Torrey.

Rocky’s new property had not been lived on for a number of years and was, consequently, pretty run down. Upon learning of my present situation, I was promptly hired to assist her in getting it back in shape. I would decide on my own hours each day, though it would average out about eight, and would receive the munificent sum of $1.75 an hour. Staying on at “my room” at the motel for $3.00 a night and eating in the café, I would not make a whole lot of money. But it would be enough to pay my “bills” and save up some to finally get home. Besides, I liked it here and had nothing else pressing to do until I started my “real” job of teaching school in September.

For the next several weeks I worked pulling weeds and clearing brush from the property, repaired the partially collapsed wooden fence surrounding the lot, and installed a temporary bridge leading across the water canal running in front of the place. Smaller irrigation channels ran from this down into a little orchard of perhaps ten or a dozen fruit trees towards the rear of the property. These had to be cleaned out and the trees trimmed, as neither had been used in years. A tiny cement icehouse and an old, rather dilapidated log cabin completed the holdings. My rather meager building skills limited any work on the log cabin more than a general cleaning up of accumulated refuse and trash, but one of my principal jobs did concern the old icehouse. Tappan Carport and Icehouse (in 1969 Rocky Carroll's)

With the cabin in such poor shape, Rocky had been staying with Jean at her place in Teasdale. What she wanted me to do was fix up the icehouse for her to temporarily stay in. It was only one room, about 6 by 8 feet, with sturdy wooden shelves built on the three sides adjacent to and opposite the door. I was to construct a wooden carport on two sides of the icehouse, under which Rocky could pull her big Volkswagen mini-bus next to the door. This would, in effect, provide her with a two-room “dwelling,” with the other section of the carport serving as an open-sided shelter for a picnic table and chairs.

Thus went my summer for the next few weeks. Early in the morning I would either walk or drive the four blocks, one north and three west, from the Chuck Wagon. It would be just after sun-up, the birds would be singing, and the sky a bright “Utah” blue. It was usually still a little cool when I would arrive at Rocky’s and I would sit in the east-facing doorway of the icehouse until the sun finally peeked over the line of Lombardy poplar trees lining that side of the lot. It was more open to the north, and I could see the green bulk of Thousand Lake Mountain, flanked at its base by the red-colored, what Rocky called, Mummy Cliffs. Supposedly the vertical erosions of the rather soft sandstones and shales resembled ancient Egyptian sarcophaguses, standing in a line shoulder to shoulder.

But what I really remember were the trees. The main street through Torrey, now Highway 24, is lined on both sides by huge, over-arching cottonwood trees, which thrive on the water from the open canal on the south. Many of the side streets are paralleled by tall, stately poplars, and a number of the town lots have evergreen trees planted on them. Not so common anymore, but still in evidence at a few places, are small orchards of fruit trees. Many of these trees are very old, having been planted during Torrey’s early days over a century ago. To many people they are in a large degree responsible for the distinctive charm of the town. Main Street/Highway 1969

I remember the scene from the window of my room at the motel. It faced north towards Thousand Lake Mountain. One evening, a late afternoon shower had passed over the area, and the sun had just broken through a rift in the clouds to the west. Backed by the still dark purple clouds, the green of the grass contrasted greatly with the high red and yellow rock promontory known as Torrey Knoll, which rose some 1,500 feet above the valley of Sand Creek. Highlighting the scene, the burnished stone walls of the old vacant schoolhouse seemed to glow with a golden light from the lowering sun. Torrey from Room 5, 1969

“Port,” as he was known as to his close friends, from his middle name of Portman, had a great interest in archeology, and he gradually accumulated a rather impressive collection of prehistoric artifacts. He exhibited these in his museum above the store to the delight of interested visitors. Sometime after his death, his heirs donated the collection to Capitol Reef National Monument in 1953. Since that time until the 1990s, numerous items were on permanent display at the Visitor Center and formed the major part of the park service’s archeological holding there. At present, however, the bulk of the collection is in the temporary care of the National Park Service’s Western Archeological and Conservation Center in Tucson, Arizona, following the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990.

Here is yet another connection between Torrey and Capitol Reef. E.P. Pectol, the “Father of Capitol Reef,” besides being a merchant, also served as the Torrey Ward bishop of the LDS Church from 1911 through 1926. His upstairs museum area was sometime later converted into apartment-type living quarters, where the Tolbert family now lived. LaVoy served as the bishop of the Torrey Ward from 1968 through 1973.

An addition was added onto the west side of the original rock building in the 1950s, and a short while later the last addition was put atop that. When I first stayed in Torrey in 1968, the old store area was the café, the 1950s addition was the gift and rock shop, and the most recent addition was the upstairs motel rooms.

As arranged with Rocky at the beginning, I for the most part decided on my own hours spent at her place, so it was not all work and no play. The Tolbert’s had four children, all boys, ranging in age from four to ten. When it got hot in the afternoons, they would occasionally go “swimming” in the big canal across the highway. If it was just the two youngest, I would go along and keep an eye on them. These two, Davy and Jim, were my favorites. Dave was six, and Jim four. Dave was wild and kind of onery, while Jim was either happy and laughing or bawling about something or other. Jim was extremely proud of his new straw cowboy hat that he wore everywhere. His grandmother had gotten it for him to wear to the rodeo up in Richfield on the Fourth of July.

This canal, following a twisting course, originates a couple of miles to the west at the Fremont River. For years it was the literal life-blood of the community. Streams flow on either side of the benchland on which Torrey is located, but they are at a level far below the town, requiring water to be brought long distances by canals and ditches. The Torrey canal was first proposed in 1896, but it took some fourteen years of on-again, off-again work to bring water from the Fremont River onto the Torrey bench. Not until October of 1910 did water reach the town for culinary and irrigation purposes, and not until 1936 did cisterns for storing water become obsolete with the construction of a modern pipeline.

This summer of 1969, Flora and Theresa, the Ellett’s two youngest daughters, had their niece from Logan, Utah, working as a waitress with them in the café. She had been there last summer also, but had already left when Mike, Bill, and I came to town. Flora and Theresa just howled with laughter when I asked Bertha if she also went to college at Utah State. I was quickly informed that she was only 16, but she sure looked like she was at least a freshman in college to me. I was “in love” the rest of my stay in Torrey! The three girls would also occasionally go swimming, but not in the canal. We would go down to the “waterfall” just east of Capitol Reef. In 1962, rather than build the new portion of Highway 24 to follow the bend of an old riverbed meander, highway officials blasted straight through a sandstone cliff. Then, instead of building a bridge over the Fremont River and allowing the stream to continue along its natural course around the meander, they blasted out a new channel that cut off the bend and kept the river on the north side of the highway. This diversion took the river on a new course and over a small cliff, thereby creating a waterfall that has become a popular swimming spot for visitors, as well as local youngsters. Flora, Bertha, Jim (myself), Theresa

Dancing has long been one of the chief forms of recreation throughout the Utah history of the LDS Church. This was especially true in the smaller Mormon settlements, and those of Wayne County were no exception. This continues to be the case even up until the present time. The first Saturday I was there, a dance was held over in Hanksville. The girls tried to get me to go along, but I pleaded exhaustion from work.

The same has been true of Torrey itself. The year before, the three of us had noticed an open, tree-shaded area across from and down a little ways from the Chuck Wagon. A large, rectangular slab of smooth, level concrete had been poured. It was walled in on three sides, except that facing the road, and a booth-type small building had been constructed along one wall. A couple of old tables and chairs were carelessly shoved into one corner with the wind-blown leaves. Painted in now faded colors on one wall were the words, “The Big Apple.” I learned that this was an open-air dance pavilion, built in 1939 in an orchard of apple trees, thus its name. Because of Torrey’s central location, people from all over the county would travel here to enjoy dances in the summer time. Now, however, it had been closed down for some time.

There is a story told about a dance in Torrey, long before the Big Apple’s time, though. It seems that after the mine payroll robbery at Castle Gate, Utah, in April of 1897, the notorious outlaw Butch Cassidy and members of his Wild Bunch separated before returning to their hideout at Robbers Roost. Two of the gang, Elza Lay and a man named Fowler, rode to the Roost by way of Torrey. According to the tale, the two men stopped in the town when they saw that a dance was in progress. A twelve-year-old boy said later that he had observed the two hiding some bags, evidently of money, in a haystack after their arrival in the evening. Elza Lay, a favorite with the girls, danced, while Fowler held their horses and kept watch outside. Later, they rode on eastwards.

As the days and eventually weeks went by, my work at Rocky’s place progressed. There were a few visitors. One afternoon several people drove up in a couple of cars and asked if it would be okay if they looked around the place a little bit. Rocky had purchased the property from a Mrs. Evangeline Tappan, a long-time Torrey resident who in 1969 was now living in Bicknell. The people were relatives of the Tappan family and said that they had spent many a summer’s vacation when they were young children at the Torrey place. They had just recently heard that the property had been sold and had driven down from northern Utah, wanting to take one last look at the old log cabin.

Another occasional visitor was Mr. Nebeker from across the road to the north. He was a nice old gentleman, 68 years old, he told me. He used to be a prospector and had explored all over the region searching for gold. When I was telling this one night at the café, Flora related that her father had been a prospector at one time also.

Mr. Ellett’s grandfather had come to Rabbit Valley over in the western part of Wayne County back in the 1870s. He was a farmer and part-time rancher, as was Mr. Ellett now. But when the uranium boom of the 1950s mushroomed, he gave it a try. Flora said that when she was real little, she could remember him leaving home for a week or two at a time, to go prospecting. They had sold one of their claims for quite a bit of money, and even now, they still had a couple of uranium claims down toward the Circle Cliffs, south of Capitol Reef. They had sold one of their claims for quite a bit of money.

This also brought about Mr. Ellett’s hobby of lapidary work. On his prospecting trips he began to pick up and collect unusual rock and mineral specimens, especially around the igneous intrusions of the Henry Mountains. Later he would cut and polish these and make jewelry of various kinds, as well as other gift items. The gift-rock shop was adjacent to the café, and last year Mike and Bill had purchased two desk pen sets decorated with Mr. Ellett’s work. I had gotten a circular table top, inlaid with cut rock and mineral slices, which still stands in my room at my house where I am writing these words.

I was now in the last stages of my summer’s work for Rocky. LaVoy and I would sometimes sit around the patio back of the motel after dinner, and he would draw with a pencil on the cement indicating different points on constructing the carport. Rocky and I had decided to use three cedar posts for the main supports, roofed with lumber from the sawmill up in Loa. She ordered what we needed, and one afternoon LaVoy and I took his pickup truck to carry it back. .

LaVoy also had a cedar post back of the motel, once part of a fence, that he said we could use. One day, with the help of his truck, we tried to dig and hoist it out of the ground, but without much luck. We were sweating and fuming, when up walked an elderly neighbor lady. She watched us for a minute and then said, just as serious as could be, “Why, I didn’t think that the bishop would have any trouble doing something that he wanted to get done!” Such is the faith of the Mormon people in their church.

The divisions of the LDS Church known as stakes are established according to population, as are their smaller subdivisions called wards. Wayne County, supporting a small population, is one entire stake, while, for example, the town of Kanab itself is one stake. Salt Lake City, on the other hand, contains many stakes. Torrey is a ward unto itself. The stone ward house, or church house as it was referred to locally, was just down the road a block to the east of the Chuck Wagon. Completed in 1928, it was the second such building on the “church lot.” Behind it a short ways, facing to the east, was the old original log meeting house, built back in 1898, not long after Torrey was established as a platted town.

We got the other two cedar posts from the Sprangs. The couple lived on the Fish Creek Ranch a few miles south of Torrey, just off the Boulder Mountain road. Earlier in the summer Jean and Rocky had taken me out to meet them. The ranch was a working ranch, but was just a hobby, actually. They certainly did not make their living from it. Both were nationally known artists. As word slowly spread about the scenic beauty of the Capitol Reef area, adventurous sightseers began to trickle into Fruita. Some of these “outsiders” fell in love with the Fremont River valley, bought property, and stayed. Two of these were Elizabeth Lewis and Richard Sprang.   Sprang's Fish Creek Ranch

Born and raised in Ohio, Richard moved to New York City and began working for the then-burgeoning pulp magazine market an as illustrator. With the decline of the pulps in popularity, he made the transition into comics, specializing in “Batman.” Today he is widely regarded by many as that character’s definitive artist. But Sprang also had a great interest in the West, and he wanted to research its history and explore its isolated regions. Finally, in the late 1940s, Richard was secure enough financially to move to Sedona, Arizona, from where he began his visits to the surrounding territory, particularly the Colorado River and its canyons.

In 1954, while flying over the Capitol Reef region in a friend’s small plane, Sprang first saw the dream ranch that he would later buy. In 1956, he and his first wife, Dudy Thomas, purchased the Fish Creek Cove property, but lived in nearby Torrey. From this new home, Richard continued his hiking, boating, and jeep explorations.

Early in 1956, Max and Elizabeth Lewis of Altadena, California, purchased some of the orchards and lands that were originally part of the Elijah Behunin homestead in Capitol Reef. When Mr. Lewis suddenly died that summer, Elizabeth became sole owner.

Richard Sprang’s wife, Dudy, also passed away unexpectedly early in 1957. Elizabeth and Richard were both artists, they had much in common, and were married later in 1957. Richard moved from Torrey to Elizabeth’s Fruita residence. During the next year and a half, the house on the 134-acre tract was greatly enlarged. In addition, an art studio and other buildings were also constructed. In 1961, after five years residence, the Sprangs sold their property to the National Park Service as the result of condemnation proceedings.

Today, the part of the Sprang tract along Sulphur Creek remains as an orchard that was originally planted in the 1930s. The house also remains. The other section of the Sprang holdings, farther south on the east side of the Fremont River, became the site of the new campground loops in 1964.

Richard and Elizabeth moved to his Fish Creek Cove property, where they proceeded to build their “dream” home. This new house was something completely different from anything thus far built in the Torrey-Capitol Reef region. A large garage was separate from the house, as was their two-story studio. The three structures surrounded a laid-brick “yard.” Individually chosen colorful, water-polished river rocks were placed around the house and yard. They had collected them over the years during boat trips down the Colorado River, and cached them at certain spots. When they were ready to build their new house, a boat was sent to retrieve them.

I met the Sprangs one evening when Jean and Rocky drove me out to their Fish Creek Ranch after dinner. The Sprang’s huge, white Great Pyrennes dog enthusiastically greeted us as we came up the driveway. Appropriately enough, his name was “Moby.” We had a pleasant visit. After Mr. Sprang had questioned me some on my various travels around the Colorado Plateau area and found out that I had more than just a “tourist” knowledge of the county, he warmed up considerably. He showed me his book collection dealing with the region and also some of the photographs that he had taken. At this time Mrs. Sprang was creating exact, framed reproductions of the ancient Indian petroglyphs. Through the expansive picture-window on the west side of their living room, we were able to watch a magnificent sunset behind the upthrust rock ridge known as The Cockscomb.
In the early 1970s, when the Sprang’s marriage ended, they sold the Fish Creek Ranch. He returned to Arizona and now lives in Prescott. Her paintings and lithographs now hang in major galleries and are widely collected by individuals.

While I was in Torrey that summer, a Hollywood film studio was shooting a “western” down around the Hanksville area. They were putting false fronts on some of the buildings to make them look old, but as Flora and Theresa observed, some of them they did not have to do anything to, they were already old! Dirt had to be spread over the one paved road through the town, but the rest needed no “make up” at all. According to the girls, there was a more than normal number of females in the picture, and much of the cast was staying up at Bicknell. Many of the more old-fashioned local Mormons did not exactly approve of the mini-skirts being worn around town by some of the actresses.

One evening I was up in Bicknell with LaVoy while he was visiting with two elderly ladies. Just at this time one of the afore-mentioned scantily clad girls came walking up the street. The two Mormon ladies thought that it was “disgraceful and sinful.”

However, LaVoy told me later that most of the men kind of liked it!

Speaking of Hollywood “stars,” Torrey itself can boast of at least one television personality. In the 1960s and early ‘70s, the young guitarist on the then-popular Lawrence Welk Show, was always introduced as “Buddy Merrill, of Torrey, Utah.” My parents were devoted watchers of the Welk show and after our brief visit in 1963, my Dad would always exclaim, “Torrey, Utah. That’s where we were!” But when I asked Flora and Theresa about him, they had never heard of him.

Just recently I learned that Buddy Merrill was born and raised in Torrey. At the age of 10 he started playing guitar, and in the mid-1950s he began to play at occasional weekend dances for various local groups. A few years later his family moved to Los Angeles, where Buddy found work playing with western bands in some of the smaller nightclubs. A neighbor and Buddy’s mother sent one of his recording tapes to bandleader Lawrence Welk, who at the time was conducting a nation-wide talent contest. He not only won first prize, but several weeks later Welk called again to offer the eighteen-year-old a full-time spot with his “Champagne Orchestra.”

As it turned out, Buddy was a great-grandson of old Elijah Behunin! Several of Elijah’s children were well known for their singing abilities and proficiency with various musical instruments. A grandson, Leslie Merrill Behunin, was said to be able to play the banjo every bit as well as a professional, and was the father of Buddy “Merrill.”

It was now well into August, I had done just about everything that I was capable of around Rocky’s place, and my teaching job began the first of September. Once again it was time to leave Torrey and return to Missouri. And once again there were hugs, and a few tears, all around. But I told them they had not seen the last of me, and that I would be sure and come back.

Introduction
Part I — 1963: The First Visit
Part II — 1968: The Three Nephites
Part IV — Early 1970's: The Prodigal Son Returns
Part V — 1967-1987 Interlude
Part VI — 1990's: The Last Years
Epilogue — 2000