The Kolb Diaries: Chapter 11
The Last Years
When the Grand Canyon became a national park in 1919 the Department of the Interior gave Emery Kolb a contract that allowed him to operate his studio for a ten-year period and renewed it every ten years. In 1950, because of Emery's age they changed the renewal date to every five years. Both his and Blanche's health showed the years beginning to tell on them. The doctors diagnosed Blanche as having cancer in 1938.[1] This, plus an acute case of arthritis that at times immobilized her and kept her in and out of the hospital caused frustration to them both, though she never complained about her problems and continued her work around the studio. To make her life easier Emery considered installing an elevator in the three-story studio but found the cost prohibitive.[2]
Emery had health problems too. He complained of his head hurting and had the idea that insufficient blood reached his brain. He made a trip to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, for a checkup and after running tests they released him with the diagnosis of "poor circulation." Later Elmer Belt, head of the Elmer Belt Urologic Group in Beverly Hills, California, urged him to have an examination in his clinic, and here the reports showed the same results. Emery never agreed with the diagnosis of either hospital. As he grew older he became more concerned about his health and resorted to all kinds of patient medicines and treatments, none of which helped.
The increasing number of people making the trip to the bottom of the canyon in both winter and summer and the visitors attending the lecture created more business at the studio during the 1950's than ever before. Emery felt his health would no longer permit him to give the lectures personally so he presented a tape-recorded program, but at each show he stood on the bottom step of the stair leading up to the gift shop and greeted the public in person.[3]
He and Blanche became active in various civic organizations and opened the auditorium at the studio to the local groups for plays and other types of entertainment and both took part in many of the functions in the Village. On one occasion the Rotary Club sponsored an all-male follies and fashion show with the members dressed as women, parading across the stage wearing the latest in feminine attire. Emery took pleasure in showing friends a picture of himself as a stylishly dressed belle. Most failed to recognize the fancily dressed woman and some even made the comment "she sure has nice looking legs." This remark always caused him to break up with laughter.[4]
Emery also had an interest in education at Grand Canyon. He established a scholarship fund that the school awarded annually to a deserving high school student and he always presented the award in person to the recipient on the stage at graduation.[5]
In 1952 the Emery celebrated his fiftieth year at the Canyon and the superintendent of Grand Canyon National Park wrote letters to many of their long-time associates inviting them to attend a celebration in his honor. This brought letters and telegrams of congratulations from a host of old friends, among them the aging Gilbert Grosvenor of the National Geographic Society, Dave Rust, Senator Barry Goldwater and Byron Harvey, Jr. head of the Harvey Company. The Park held the affair in the community building where as honored guest Emery delivered a speech that covered his exploits in the Canyon and on the Colorado River. Like most old men, he held to the wonders of the past and enjoyed telling the things he had accomplished; the story always seemed the same. In 1955 another big celebration took place when Emery and Blanche celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Again cards and letters came from all over the United States congratulating the two on the occasion.
One by one the old timers whom he had known passed on: W. W. Bass, Frederick Dellenbaugh, Ralph Cameron, Julius Stone, and Bert Lauzon were among these. Many new friends came to the studio each year, more to talk with the great daring explorer of years past than to hear his recorded lecture.
When Ellsworth Kolb left the business at Grand Canyon in 1924 he established official residence in Los Angeles. At first he made a few lecture tours but did not pursue this activity long as he did not enjoy the work, and with the advent of the Hollywood movies, the lecture business became less popular as a form of entertainment and less profitable. In 1924 he married Ella Shonesby from North Dakota, a woman twenty years his junior.[6] The marriage lasted only two months and Ella returned to her home. Ellsworth continued his happy-go-lucky style of living. He took up drawing and painting and hired models to pose for him, sometimes photographing them in the nude, and plastered the walls of his room with the pictures.
For a time he had no steady employment and lived off the money Emery sent each month. When the United States entered World War II in 1942 he attended trade school in Los Angeles, studied to be a machinist, and after graduating secured a job at Douglas Aircraft as a precision machinist where he worked until 1952.[7] In June of that year Emery received word from his youngest brother Ernest that Ellsworth was in serious condition and not expected to live. The trouble seemed to be his heart, high blood pressure and a kidney problem. Emery, Blanche and Ernest rushed to Los Angeles, but Ellsworth outsmarted medical science, regained his health and within a few weeks returned to work.
During the decade of the 1950's a number of accidents and illnesses beset him. In 1952 he fell off a ladder while painting his house; later he injured his neck in an automobile accident. The doctor, convinced he had a broken neck, put him in traction. Ellsworth insisted his neck was not broken and late one night unfastened his restraints, walked out of his room and down the hall to the bathroom. Returning to his bed he got back into his harness and went to sleep. Next day he informed the doctor of his trip down the hall. The physician, horrified at the tale, took new X-rays to prove to his patient that his diagnosis was correct, but on examining them found no sign of a break, fracture, or even a calcium buildup and released Ellsworth from the hospital. Again he outwitted the doctors.[8] His age and health problems slowed him considerably and he became less active than in the past. He requested Ernest to locate a room for him with a connecting bath containing a large tub. He wanted to be in a hotel with an elevator where he could be close to two motion picture theaters and a cafeteria. Ernest found what his brother wanted and here he spent his last years attending the moving pictures almost daily.
On one visit Ernest relates he and his wife went to Ellsworth's room and found him away; a potato boiled on the stove so they waited. When he returned he greeted them as usual and set about fixing his lunch. He first chopped the potato into a bowl, then opened a can of Vienna sausages and dumped them onto the potato. Up to this point it looked appetizing, but Ellsworth added a generous helping of cornflakes, milk and sugar to the concoction and ate it, commenting on how good it tasted.[9]
Ellsworth died apparently in his sleep in 1960 at the age of eighty-three . His maid found him two days after his death. The family buried him in the Pioneer's Cemetery at Grand Canyon on l3 January 1960, a cold day with the temperature hovering in the low 30's. Dark gray clouds covered the sky and a light snow fell on those few who gathered at the gravesite to pay their respects.[10] Ellsworth died almost an unknown. As one of the greatest rivermen to run the Colorado he should have received more credit for his deeds. During his years at the Canyon he had hiked more of the gorge than any other man though Emery often made this claim for himself. He reached and explored Cheyava Falls, hiked to Sockdolager Rapid and climbed Diana Temple before anyone else. Ellsworth made these trips either alone or with someone other than his brother, but they were soon forgotten. Ernest felt Emery had taken the credit and glory for much of what Ellsworth did,[11] and others expressed the same feeling. Yet, in almost every instance where he mentions an undertaking of the two Emery makes an unqualified statement that "my brother and I made the trip," or "our book," or "my brother's book" and autographed nearly all Ellsworth's books sold in the studio as "Ellsworth and Emery Kolb," giving his brother full credit for his part. Emery, determined to have his 'name in lights' pushed himself into the limelight while Ellsworth remained content to fade into the background.
Death visited the Kolb family three times during the year of 1960, first Ellsworth in January, and later in the year their mother died in Los Angeles, but the greatest tragedy to Emery and the Kolb household occurred on the morning of ll October. Thelma Self, a long-time employee, busy in the gift shop received a call from downstairs asking her to come down at once, saying, "There is something wrong with Mother." Thelma hurried to the bedroom where she found Blanche lying on the bed dressed and ready to go to Williams. She complained of a pain in her chest and asked Thelma to loosen her bra, then grasping Thelma's hand, died quietly.[12]
Emery lived fifteen more years in the studio home without the woman who had devoted her life to him and the business for Blanche was as much a part of the Kolb Studio as he. When various trips took him away she ran the business efficiently. In many letters Emery mentioned his wife as keeping the books for the studio even with her limited knowledge of bookkeeping. Throughout their married life Blanche did whatever Emery needed and treated him like a little boy. She often said, "You go out and I will take care of this." Blanche not only gave her time to her family, but everyone in the village received the same treatment. She always helped those who needed assistance and everyone respected her. Throughout her life she remained a gracious hostess and a charming person who never appeared in public without her gloves and hat.
Emery dearly loved his daughter, Edith; perhaps he gave too much love and devotion to her. He always dreamed of having a boy who could hike the canyons, hunt, fish and run the river with him. Subconsciously he forced his daughter into the role and in her younger years he called her 'Bill' and tried to treat her as a boy but Edith preferred to be a lady, maintaining the charm of her mother, a fact Emery never recognized. After Blanche died Edith spent some time with her father for the two needed each other during this period but due to their different temperaments they could not get along well together.
In 1951 Barry Goldwater while flying over the eastern end of Grand Canyon saw a shadow of what appeared to be a natural bridge in a tributary of Nankoweap Canyon. What he saw intrigued him. He had never heard of a natural bridge in the area large enough to cast a shadow of the magnitude he saw on that morning. During the next three years Goldwater returned to the area twice and saw the shadow of the bridge each time. His busy schedule in the United States Senate prevented him from exploring the site until October 1954. With the aid of a helicopter he landed a short distance from the rock and boulder-strewn bed of the canyon and hiked to the rock formation that had tantalized him so many years. The limestone bridge stood nearly 200 feet high and it spanned the canyon of about the same in width. It looked almost like the proscenium arch of a gigantic theater stage, the curtain raised revealing a high cliff covered with moss and ferns wet from a waterfall plunging from the rim above as a backdrop. What a spectacular view this would be in spring when the snows on the north rim began their thaw![13] Emery was pleased on 30 November 1954 when Senator Barry Goldwater of Arizona, wrote telling about a natural bridge he had discovered in Nankoweap Canyon where he had never been. The letter stated: " . . . I hope you have no objection to my trying to have your name attached to this bridge, as I am making every effort to accomplish this with the Interior Department. . . . " Goldwater enclosed a map of the area and a picture with the letter. The idea that he could never see this phenomena depressed Emery and he brooded over the matter for several days. In 1965 at the age of eighty-four, Emery felt he was no longer physically able to attempt hikes and climbs necessary for wandering in the canyons and consequently had resigned himself to being what he called "rim bound." His common sense said one thing but within his soul a spark of adventure that would never be completely extinguished said another.
In the summer of the same year Dr. Merrill Clubb, an English professor at the University of Kansas and a hiking enthusiast whose interest lay in penetrating the most remote inaccessible places of Grand Canyon, convinced Emery he could make the trip to the bridge. He felt Emery should have the privilege of standing before the natural wonder bearing his name. The suggestion ignited the spark of adventure in the old canyoneer. Emery at first seemed reluctant but with some prodding from the professor made up his mind to try the climb. Before they attempted to approach the location on foot, the two flew over the area searching for the easiest route to the bottom of Nankoweap. After selecting a spot near Point Imperial as a starting point they made their plans and on Monday, 11 July they set out for the North Rim.
From here early the next morning they started their climb down the side of the plateau into the canyon keeping Mount Hayden in full view on their right. At the edge of the chasm the Kaibab limestone appeared a creamy yellow color stained in places to a red or grey, worn and pitted through constant bombardment of the elements. Between the stones, fir and spruce trees had obtained a foothold interspersed with small deciduous bushes and trees. With no trail or path to follow the two men jumped down a few feet to a huge flat rock protruding from the wall then walked cautiously to the edge and stepped down to a second stone ledge. Their downward trek continued over step-like formations, some with a drop of four or five feet. Sometimes they slid and used the trees and bushes to aid in the descent. They progressed to the Coconino sandstone, whose sheer steep cliffs no longer provided convenient steps. They crept along the edge of a shelf until they found a crevice to lower themselves farther. The fir and spruce trees no longer grew to use as handholds. A break in the cliff presented a means to work down to another narrow crumbly ledge, studded here and there with small junipers. Down they went until they arrived at a sloping red section of the wall, where with more sliding than climbing, they carefully worked their way through the Hermit shale. Little or no vegetation survived here in the desert-like terrain. For two hours they worked their way toward the bottom of Nankoweap Canyon and arrived at the bridge.
After photographing and resting they began the return trip. It had been their plan to reach the top by nightfall, but the climb back took longer than anticipated. When they reached the Coconino the day began to grow fade. The brambles along the way had torn Dr. Clubb's shirt to shreds. Scratches and bruises, some bleeding and others just smarting enough to make them uncomfortable covered both exhausted men. Without coats or bedrolls they settled down and shivered through the night. They made the balance of the 1,600-foot climb to the rim on Wednesday to where a plane waited to take Emery home; Dr. Clubb ventured on to explore Shinumo Creek. Emery returned home with only some scratches and bruises that healed in a few days, and a bright twinkle in his eye. He had accomplished another feat in the Grand Canyon that would remain in his memory the rest of his life.[14]
According to a letter written on 6 September 1955 to Otis Marston by Jesse L. Nusbaum, Senior Archaeologist at Santa Fe, New Mexico, a John Brown and Joe Hamblin, brother of Jacob Hamblin, first saw the bridge in 1870 while making a trail in the canyon for John Wesley Powell's second expedition. Later, in the winter of 1920 a Jack Roak saw the formation when he came to within 200 yards of it. Neither party recorded seeing the bridge and it remained unknown until the Goldwater trip. The Senator succeeded in his efforts to have it named and it now appears on maps and charts in a secluded little side canyon off Nankoweap Canyon as "Kolb Bridge."
The old river runner got it into his head to make another try at running the Colorado River. He lay in bed with his eyes closed figuring out the details for a boat to make the trip. Then at his desk he wrote on scraps of paper and cardboard the materials he needed. He listed each piece of lumber or plywood with the measurements right down to the fraction of an inch, and sent to Flagstaff for the materials. He planned to build a boat similar to the scow the Hydes used on their ill-fated trip of 1928.[15] Emery worked diligently in his garage for days and had the craft almost complete. Everyone tried to convince him that the boat would not stand up in the rough water of the Colorado River. Undaunted, he wrote to his old river buddy of 1923, Leigh Lint, asking if he would like to go down the river again in his scow. Lint refused the offer using the excuse of lower back problems. Then he asked Hubert Lauzon, son of the man who accompanied him and his brother on 1911 trip but he too refused.[16] At last he gave up the idea.
The National Park Service presented Emery with a new agreement in l962 changing the franchise period to three years and included a clause stating the studio would become the property of the National Park on Emery's death. He refused to sign the contract with this insertion as it would deprive his heirs of the business he had worked sixty years to build. He insisted the studio would be left to his daughter, Edith Lehnert and his grandson Emery Lehnert, to continue its operation in spite of the fact neither had any desire to take it over. The government had different ideas on the subject. From the time Grand Canyon became a National Park in 1919 the NPS desired to demolish the building that they considered not in keeping with the other structures at the south rim. Emery appealed to Carl Hayden, United States Senator from Arizona, for help. Senator Hayden succeeded in having the franchise time extended to five years but was unable to persuade the Department of the Interior to remove the objectionable condition about the studio. When Emery received the new contract the death clause remained and he again refused to sign the papers. The NPS maintained its stand regarding destruction of the building after Emery's death. A letter from Secretary of Interior Stewart Udall to Senator Hayden stated the agency's opinion in no uncertain terms:
As you know it has been our feeling that without Mr. Kolb's personal participation in the presentation of the story of his explorations of the Grand Canyon and the Colorado River, the concession should be discontinued. With the passing of time, Mr. Kolb has gradually withdrawn from active participation which has resulted in a lessening quality of the presentation and the public interest. However, because of our high regard for Mr. Kolb we plan to continue the concession for another five years, but in no event beyond his lifetime, and he was recently offered a contract on that basis. Beyond that time we believe that this history of the Canyon to which Mr. Kolb contributed so much can be more effectively presented within the Park's museum and interpretive program than through the continuation of the studio as a separate establishment.
It has been the plan that upon the termination of the Kolb concession the studio building would be razed and the site restored to a natural condition. This is in line with our long range plan to eventually remove all structures from the Canyon rim, which constitute an intrusion on the natural scene. . . .
There ensued a series of discussions and meetings that resulted in an agreement in which the government would purchase the studio and all its facilities from Emery for $65,000 and give him the right to continue operating the business until his death.
Emery contended his presentation at the studio to be the most valuable asset to the park next to Grand Canyon itself. Even after he no longer made the daily lectures personally, attendance continued to grow. In 1969 he wrote to a friend that he gave the show twice a day and in the summer he sometimes presented it nine times a day. "[I] have personally given over 30,000 lectures in our studio, and now that my story is on tape, the show has been run 60,000 times." He continued the letter saying he still took pictures of the trail parties twice daily, developed the film and printed the copies and sometimes operated the projector for the lectures, even though he was eighty-eight years old.[17] Regardless of what the Department of Interior desired, Emery Kolb would remain at the head of the Bright Angel Trail for another seven years, and despite all the wrangling regarding the destruction of the old studio building, it remains standing.
Aware that his home would be demolished after his death, he made plans to place his personal material where it would be safe until his daughter and grandson could sort and dispose of it. He purchased a lot outside the park in Tusayan, Arizona. Here he constructed a basement and planned at some later date to build a house. He called this his vault and used it as a storage place. A cellar-type door on the outside covered a ramp leading to an inner opening. It took a strong person to lift the heavy outside door and Emery used a car jack and a rope and pulley to open it, then held it in position with a stick. He padlocked and went to great length to camouflage the entrance. At first he locked the inner door in the same manner, but after transients broke in few times and stole some articles of value and burned some of his magazines and papers for warmth, he determined to make his vault more secure. With his flair for inventing, he devised a special lock. If he installed an old-fashioned gate latch on the inside, he reasoned, it would be impossible for anyone to enter from the outside without a secret means of lifting the latch. Emery drilled a small hole through the concrete wall and inserted a tube that he carefully hid. Inside he attached a pan to the latch bar with the base of the tube above it. When he poured sand or water into the tube it would fill the pan, lift the latch and allow entry. It was a Rube Goldberg contraption but it worked. Even so he continued to use the padlock as well. He was quite secretive about his lock mechanism.
Emery had a big Indian man working with him during this time and one day the two went out to the vault where, using the Indian's strength he opened the outside door and propped it open with the stick. Emery proceeded down the ramp to the inner door while his employee stood beyond. Without thinking, the Indian leaned against the outer door, the stick fell, and the door with its heavy weight crashed down, hitting the Indian in the head, knocking him headfirst down the ramp where he landed on top of Emery. The weight of the helper could have crushed the little man but he came out with only a few bruises. After this, anyone going into the vault other than those close to him had to wait at a distance so they could not discover his secret latch. [18]
Though in his late eighties, Emery still drove his automobile, and how he managed to keep from killing himself or someone else will never be known. He built the garage, like the studio, below the rim of the Canyon and the driveway curved down on a steep incline from the top with the canyon wall on one side and the gorge on the other. Emery would back his car out of the garage and up the curving drive at great speed, taking no heed of the drop off. When the local residents saw Emery's car coming, they would shout, "Get out of the way! Here comes Mr. Kolb." With a reputation of running into other cars it would be difficult to say how many fenders he damaged at the village. To eliminate complaints he invariably reached deep into a pocket and produced cash to cover the breakage.
The Kolbs furnished the living area of the house with the nicest possible furniture, china, silver and crystal that could be found. Invoices show them all to be of best quality and expensive for their day. Both Emery and Blanche were particular in what they bought and expected to get full value on a purchase. In his business dealings however, Emery was shrewd and conservative. Some of his so-called cost-savings deals cost more to accomplish the way he insisted on doing them than it would have cost to do them the right way.
Lewis Farnsworth, Jr., a fifteen-year-old boy who worked for Emery during the summer of 1968, relates a story of Emery's attempt to save money. Lewis and his employer started out to Williams one morning. About halfway to town the big 1940 Packard Emery drove suddenly died. He ground at the starter with no luck, and finally had the vehicle towed into the garage. Upon examination the mechanic discovered not one but three fuel-saving devices installed in the gas line, further, he found the carburetor had a gas-saver jet that Emery had purchased from a mail order catalogue. To complicate matters he had thrown the old jet into the trash. Replacing the part for an old Packard at this time was not easy to do, especially in a small town. Once the mechanic removed Emery's innovations the fuel-starved car ran without a problem. The towing charges, the garage bill and the new part cost Emery considerably more money than the gasoline saving but that somehow never seemed to bother him.[19]
As he grew older Emery employed people to operate the business. Three major aspects of it worked hand in hand. Thelma Self reigned in the gift shop at trail level. When she began work there the primary items sold to tourists were photographs and petrified wood, both shipped all over the world. As time progressed Thelma induced Emery to put in a line of good Indian jewelry and rugs. This area of the business proved by far the most profitable.
The auditorium, located down a flight of steps to the second level of the building seated one-hundred-eighty people; the original room built in 1915 would seat only seventy-five. Emery took pride in showing a break in the floor where he added the new addition in 1925. The projection booth upstairs originally housed a hand-cranked, 35-millimeter motion picture machine and a lantern slide projector but later possessed standard theater-type equipment. The show continued the same throughout the years it ran, a combination of projected lantern slides, some of which had been hand-colored, alternated with motion pictures taken on various trips down the river. The projectionist had to be alert to keep up with the recorded lecture. If the sound got ahead of the film the projector would be speeded up until it caught up. A chart on the wall listed key words to aid the operator in making the changes in the lantern slides or start the movie. After running the show a few days it became a simple and boring task and on occasions the worker would doze off or sit and daydream and miss the cue for several pictures. In a case like this the slides would be projected very rapidly to synchronize the show again. The operator usually left the door to the projection room open and the antics of the projectionist were as interesting as the old scratched and jumpy movie and nearly always attracted visitors.[20]
The oldest part of the business consisted of photographing the mule trips from a window facing the trail on the west end of the building, and the darkroom operation connected with developing and printing them. Every time a mule wrangler or trail guide brought a group of tourists down Bright Angel Trail he would stop at a woodenlever embedded in the rock, line up the mules in the proper direction and ring a bell.[21] The photographer then swung open the window and the tourists found themselves looking into the lens of a black 5x7 camera while he snapped their picture. With the camera in the window preset and focused the photographer had only to insert the film holder and snap the shutter, then the party moved on, making room for the next group.
The darkroom itself was a unique place, a combination of homemade equipment and a few old and new photographic developments. Emery had made pictures here for so long he did the work by rote. For years he refused to use premixed photographic chemicals packaged by a manufacturer, insisting on using a recipe of his own, adding a bit of this and that to come up with the developer and hypo mixtures needed for the job. His printing papers were always the same and he knew exactly what he required to print a proper picture. In later years he relented and used the premixed chemicals, but the paper and films remained the same.
The year 1969 marked the centennial of John Wesley Powell's trip through the canyons of the Colorado and a big year for Page, Arizona, for the long sought Powell Museum opened in August. Through an invitation from Stan Jones, Emery went to the dedication ceremonies on 3l August that included celebrities from all over the nation including the governors of Utah and Arizona and sixty-two of Powell's descendants. Afterward Jones and members of the party, including Emery, descended to the foot of Glen Canyon Dam and boarded a rubber raft for a trip down the Colorado River to Lee's Ferry.[22] The river was fast moving but smooth in this section. On the short trip Emery received a bite from a scorpion and lost his wallet. After the rafting company deflated the boat they found the wallet and returned it. The insect bite caused no major damage but elicited a letter to Jones advising him to spray the raft with an insecticide before he made another trip.
The celebration extended to Grand Canyon National Park with the dedication of the Powell Memorial and a banquet at El Tovar Hotel with Emery the guest of honor. The governor of Arizona, Jack Williams introduced Emery with a speech that Emery considered the best the governor had ever made and contained the greatest tribute ever paid him. After Emery took the podium he thanked everyone and commented, "This committee has done a wonderful job, except to present me with the Wings of an Angel."[23] Emery printed the governor's speech and distributed copies of it at the studio.
On l7 May 1974 a group of Colorado River historians met in Las Vegas to make final preparations for a river run of great significance to them. The trip began at Lee's Ferry three days later with two thirty-seven-foot rubber rafts to run 280 miles downstream to Pierce's Ferry near the head of Lake Mead. The two passengers accompanying the historians made the trip important: Otis Marston, an eighty-year-old who had run the river annually for a number of years, and who for twenty-five years had been compiling the first and most complete historical and geological guides to the river, and ninety-three-year-old Emery Kolb. The party launched the rafts and pushed off for the nine-day trip with Otis (Doc) Marston on board but due to Emery's age they provided a helicopter to fly him into the Canyon at the mouth of Little Colorado River. The pilot intended to land on the sandbar at the confluence of the two rivers, but decided the site too risky and landed instead on the talus one hundred feet from the Little Colorado river on the right-hand side. Emery, dressed in a brand-new pair of blue jeans with the pant legs turned up six inches at the bottom, a new shirt, new shoes and a new straw hat with the price tag still attached, joined the party there.[24] With the two pioneer rivermen enveloped in Mae West life jackets settled comfortably in the giant rubber raft where there would be the least danger, the party embarked down the river. True to his profession, Emery carried his camera, an old folding bellows-type Kodak, that he could not see to operate and none of the crew knew how to manipulate. Marston and Kolb had known each other for years but the two never got along. Marston had decided opinions about Emery and always tried to upstage him, impossible when Emery was present. On occasions he had made derogatory remarks concerning Emery, many contrary to his nature and untrue. They argued all the way.
The first evening the crew broke the trip early and set up camp as in the old days while the two old river runners continued their heated discussion. Marston, with a few drinks, began to argue louder and Emery retorted louder. To have a little peace in camp they set the two on a ledge some distance from the site where the controversy continued on the subject of the proper way to run a river rapid in a small boat. Marston contended the boat should head into the maelstrom bow first, Emery remained adamant about running them stern first as he and Ellsworth had always done. At last in a loud voice Marston said, "Have you ever heard of them running the Queen Mary across the Atlantic backwards?" The laughter of the rest of the party was so loud no one ever heard Emery's reply, but it was certainly caustic and to the point.
The historians took great interest in the talk around the campfire that night as they gained firsthand information not only about the river but about the great river runners who had gone before, they realized what a unique privilege they enjoyed being in the company of these two men of living history. While Emery related his story Marston sat across from him with a drink in his hand, and occasionally bellowed "That's not the way it was." Emery ignored him and continued his tale. Then they asked Marston to tell the story of his trips on the river. When he stood he was a bit unsteady on his feet and nearly fell head on into the campfire Emery had his revenge. In a whisper deliberately made loud enough for all to hear he told the person next to him, "I think DOCTOR Marston has had too many highballs." He emphasized the 'doctor' because everyone called Marston "Doc" though he had no degree.
Emery stayed with the party through Crystal Creek Rapid. Running this rapid particularly interested him because in the earlier days it was not formidable but by 1974 things had changed. A flash flood in 1966 had washed large boulders into the riverbed which increased the violence of the water and made the cataract one of the most difficult in the entire river. After running fourteen rapids including Hance, Grapevine, Sockdolager, Clear Creek and Crystal, the helicopter lifted him out of the Canyon and returned him to Bright Angel. Marston continued the trip to Lake Mead where he claimed he intended to make more trips down the Colorado River before he died. Emery, on the other hand, stated this was his farewell to the river. At ninety-three he figured he had enough.[25]
Art Gallison operator of a river rafting company out of Kanab, Utah, who arranged the 1974 trip invited Emery to go again the following year, but Emery wrote Jeanne Schick on 23 May 1975, ". . . If I feel as badly then as I do now I will have to skip it. . . ." Gallison planned another trip in May 1976. On this occasion they intended to transport Emery to Moab, Utah, where the party would embark down the Colorado River to the confluence with the Green River. Here in 1911 Emery and Ellsworth painted their names on the wall of the canyon. The years and weather had worn the inscription to a point that it could hardly be read and they wanted Emery to repaint it. The trip would take four or five days, and again Emery wrote Jeanne Schick on 11 May, ". . . I am terribly weak and I hope I will be able to make it. . . ." He remained at the studio and Gallison canceled the trip.
While Emery never made another trip down the river, he did get to the foot of Bright Angel Trail and across the river to the old Rust Camp, now called Phantom Ranch. The occasion was a dinner held in his honor. This was particularly noteworthy as the invitation came from the management of Grand Canyon National Park Lodges, Fred Harvey Inc. On Monday afternoon the Harvey Company's helicopter carried Emery and Edith to the bottom of the Canyon where he presented the lodge with a selection of his photographs, had his picture taken with the Phantonm Ranche crew and spent a night in one of the cabins. After this he was "rim bound" for sure.[26]
In his last year he parted with many of the less important things around the studio, books, old clothes he never wore, trinkets and junk collected over the years, agreeing to donate them to the village library or to the church for their occasional rummage sales. Emery now began to realize the historic value of his papers and photographs and wondered what would become of them after his death. Otis Marston thought the collection should be housed in California with his and other papers concerning the Colorado River, but Emery wished to keep them in Arizona where he felt they belonged. A San Diego company, Odyssey Corporation, had an interest in them for making a documentary film. The company spent several weeks at the studio interviewing him and pondering over the memoirs but for some reason they dropped the project.[27] The Pioneers Historical Society in Flagstaff expressed great interest in housing the papers and photographs, and at this late date even the National Park Service began to make plans to keep the studio open and turn it into a museum, hoping the family would donate all the items to them. Gale Burak and Emery discussed the subject of his archives at various times when she visited at the studio. The two of them would talk for hours regarding the disposition of them. Emery decided Northern Arizona University should have the papers and photographs that represented his life's work.
Gale Burak came to work for Emery Kolb in May 1976. She met the Kolbs in 1942 and had been a guest in their home at different times. She and Emery had much in common as both loved the Canyon and claimed it as their own. In those days women were not commonly seen hiking alone on the trails but as Gale said, "I was a hippy of the forties." She and Emery would talk about the trails that led from the rim, some of which no one had used for years and were in bad condition, but Emery would say, "I think there would be no problem if you tried it out." Soon afterward she would make her way over some precipitous territory. During the last year of Emery's life she became his right hand helper, acting as secretary, housekeeper, and nurse. She began to sort the papers and photographs stored in every nook and cranny of the house. She stacked the photographs on the floor in different categories-- river pictures, canyons, people-- sometimes working late into the night. When Emery felt well enough she would take a stack, and as he could no longer see the images, describe the photo to him as best she could with Emery saying,"Oh yes, I took that in 1911 it is a picture of Lodore Canyon at Hells Half Mile," or "That is Thomas Moran." Gale then identified it by writing lightly on the back of the photo. She sorted letters stashed in drawers, boxes and closets in much the same way then read them to Emery and asked if they should be saved or discarded. Some he would tell her to throw away,"That's too personal." Often she thought this was history and should be saved, but she abided by his wishes and discarded the paper. In the basement below the darkroom boxes of material contaminated by darkroom chemicals through the years had deteriorated to the point they could not be salvaged and had to be burned.
Robbers broke into the Kolb studio on two different occasions in the past. On Christmas Eve in 1969 Emery closed the shop for the holiday and went with his daughter to Sedona for the day. Emery hired Lewis Farnsworth, Jr. to paint his kitchen while on Christmas break from school and gave him the key to enter the house and finish the job. He phoned Emery Christmas day with the news of a break in and theft.[28] The robbers climbed up on the porch over Emery's little room that overlooked the canyon, broke the window and came in. ". . .You should have seen our bedrooms, every drawer, some with hundreds of letters, buttons, thread, and a box of tools dumped on the floor of Edith's room. . . ." The culprit took Emery's good suitcase filled with $6,898.15 worth of the Indian jewelry but never touched the forty dollars in the cash register. The police never found a trace of the thief, but Emery suspected it was someone living in the village that knew he was not at home rather than the hippies who wandered around the area.[29] Three months later an eleven-year-old boy found the suitcase covered with snow under a tree that contained all except $200 of the jewelry .
Another robber in 1972 created considerable damage and got away with nearly all of the jewelry. The law tracked this suspect down and issued a warrant for his arrest.[30] Emery installed an alarm system as the result of these break ins. The alarm sounded in the living area of the building, on the out side near the entry and at the security patrol office at the park. For further protection he kept a pistol under his pillow.
In the spring of 1976 at about two o'clock in the morning the burglar alarm sounded. Emery, the only one in the house at the time, jumped from his bed, put on his robe and headed up the stairs through the living room into the auditorium and from there up to the gift shop. Here he found a window left open behind the case where he displayed the jewelry. By the time the park officers arrived Emery had determined the problem to be a bat that had flown through the open window and broken the electric beam. After the officers left, Emery headed back to bed only to find he had forgotten to release the latch on the door between the auditorium and his living quarters. He had locked himself out! He returned to the shop and waited. When Jack Doud, an employee who handled all the photographic business during Emery's last years, arrived at eight o'clock the next morning he opened the door to the studio and discovered Emery sitting with his arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. Jack asked why he was sitting there and Emery replied, "because I am mad." With this he got up and stalked out through the front door, down the walk outside to the dining room entrance where Gale had opened the door a short time before, shuffled through the house to his bedroom, and went to bed without another word.[31]
Emery's eccentric ways were well known around the Village and young Lewis Farnsworth could vouch for the truth of this better than anyone else. Farnsworth remembers an occasion and related the story about Emery's septic tank. One bright sunny morning Emery informed him they were going to an old house he owned in what was then called 'tent city' to work on the septic tank. On arrival at the site Emery paced off twenty paces from the back door of the house and instructed Lewis to dig. A hole about two feet down showed no evidence of the tank. Emery decided this was not the right place and again measured the distance in the same manner only to arrive at the same spot. When Lewis inquired if it was possible that Emery's stride was not as great now as it was when he was younger, Emery replied, "My stride is the same now as it always was." When Lewis paced off the twenty paces and arrived at a place farther out, dug and hit the tank, Emery remarked, "It must have been twenty-three paces."
Removing the lid revealed a full and overflowing tank. Emery handed Lewis a bucket and said, "Empty it." Lewis questioned, "With a bucket? The park service will do it for thirty dollars." Emery's reply remained the same --Empty it. Lewis worked for the next two days dipping and carrying full buckets to the forest some distance from the house. It cost about the same to accomplish the task in this manner but it saved Emery's having to rely on the Park Service.[32]
Emery suffered from ill health and made trips to the hospital at different times. Part of his trouble was real, brought on by advancing years, and some psychological. He complained regularly of what he called "the sleeping sickness," and thought not enough oxygen was getting to his brain, causing pressures in his head. Though not painful, it seemed irksome and continuous. Even with this condition he remained the boss; his word was law and his employees did things Mr. Kolb's way until they proved impossible, then redid them the right way.
Not all his employees admired him but many did and remained close friends even after they left. Though physically he stood only five foot one inches, he was a tall man in his own mind, and up to his very last days he made the decisions. He had a great ego and everyone referred to him as "Mr. Kolb." Even in his last year at ninety-five he would not let go. Little things that someone else could attend to he felt he had to do himself. His handwriting became so illegible the bank called regarding his signature and suggested that Thelma sign the checks but Emery emphatically refused. The bank devised a rubber stamp for Thelma to use that Emery approved. At least his name was on the check for all to see and he remained the master.[33]
A row of electric lights ran down the center of the two-story-high auditorium and one morning in 1976 Emery discovered a bulb had burned out. He instructed the young man working at the studio to get the ladders and replace it. The equipment Emery had made the operation complicated. One ladder had to be located on the floor of the room and on this he laid wood planks from the rail of the balcony across to rest on top of it. This done he balanced another ladder on the bridge beneath the light fixture. From here it was necessary to climb up and change the burned-out bulb. It was definitely a risky business and the employee refused to do it.
A short time later Thelma alone in the salesroom heard a commotion in the auditorium. She peered around the corner and found Emery starting to climb the ladder, bulb in hand. She flew down the stairs and grabbed Emery by the seat of the pants and pulled him off the ladder, asking "What do you think you are doing, Mr. Kolb?"
"I am going to change the light bulb up there, the cowards here won't do it."
"The HELL you are," Thelma replied, "I don't want to pick you up in pieces off the floor. Call the repairman that's his job."
After a minutes silence Emery looked up at her sheepishly. "I guess you had better call him then."[34]
During his last year he spent hours lying in bed with his eyes closed, sometimes quietly singing to himself or reciting a poem he had either written or memorized in years past. Gale quietly entered the room one day, thinking he was asleep but discovered he was singing softly what sounded like "My bonnie lies over the ocean, My bonnie lies over the sea." On listening more closely she determined the words were "My Blanchie lies over the ocean, My Blanchie lies over the sea. O bring back my Blanchie to me." It was without tears or remorse, just the sweet melody with the name of his Blanche substituted.[35]
Emery, though nearly blind and his hearing failing, managed to carry on his business, dictating letters pertaining to the studio and answering those from friends. Each time he made a trip to Los Angeles to the hospital he would dictate letters to two of his former employees, Jeanne Schick and Gordon Berger, who lived in the Los Angeles area, asking them to make arrangements and telling them to be sure to visit him. On his return to the studio he would again go on a letter-writing spree dictating letters to the nurses. He was always a man with an eye for the ladies and these letters would sometimes be quite romantic. "I can still see your smiling face coming through the door to greet me every morning. Hope you will soon be coming to see me." Gale would often tell him to go easy if he wished to win over any of these women and "if you want any kind of association at all you had better simmer down." And simmer down he did, possibly just saying it was all he needed. The fact that he was ninety-five- years old didn't mean he couldn't dream.
On occasions he would get out of bed and dress before the time of the usual lecture, go to the auditorium, and standing on the landing at the foot of the flight of stairs leading down from the gift shop, give a ten- or fifteen-minute talk telling the people how he put the show together. He always prefaced the short speech with a statement of his health, saying that his illness made it impossible for him to give the lecture personally as he could not stand. Upon completion he would turn and climb the steps two at a time, an act that would bring down the house and leave the impression he was going up to start the projection machine.[36] On rare occasions he would dispense with the tape-recorded lecture and give the talk himself. At the end of each performance the audience applauded loud and long. After all, they had seen and heard the famous Emery Kolb and many wished they could take the stairs in the same manner.
Lowell Thomas, world traveler and author visited Emery during these last days and the two talked at great length in Emery's den facing the vista of the Canyon. When time came for the show they went up to the auditorium where Emery talked for over an hour. As Thomas was recuperating from an illness he kept his presence at the Canyon quiet, but word soon got out and before Emery completed the lecture throngs of people equipped with cameras lined the walkway to the studio to greet the two famous men. By this time neither could physically face the onslaught of the public and retreated through a lower door and downstairs to the den where they again reminisced on the past. Although Lowell Thomas was considerably younger than Emery they had many friends in common. In another half hour the crowds dispersed and Lowell Thomas and his secretary left quietly, and Emery went to bed.[37]
Emery had a remarkable memory and astonished people by quoting the entire Gettysburg Address. In interviews he would quote word for word letters he had received as far back as 1914. The Canyon Rotary club at a meeting passed out to the members a list of one-hundred words. Allowing enough time for the members to read it the program chairman exchanged the list with a blank sheet of paper and a pencil and instructed everyone to write the words they could remember. Emery wrote them all in the proper order. When asked how he could remember, he replied "by association, people have good memory, they just don't know how to use it." As age took its toll he could remember in great detail what happened twenty years before but had difficulty recollecting what took place in the past week.[38]
Among the letters Emery received was one from Stan Jones in Page, Arizona. Jones, aware of the constant trouble Emery had during the past with the NPS, suggested he move his studio to Page. An adventurer, river runner and writer, Jones had befriended Emery in the late 1930's and they had talked off and on about setting the studio on a piece of ground at Page. At first Emery thought this a good idea, but as time went by he began to see the improbability of such a feat. He dictated a letter to Jones on l0 March 1976 saying he could not move the studio for two reasons: (l) The NPS in 1963 had "forced" him to sell the studio to them. He continued, the park historian and his wife had appeared at the studio a short time earlier and took pictures of every nook and cranny of the building, implying the possibility the building would be made into a museum, since he understood Congress had passed a law that prevented the tearing down of any building at the Grand Canyon fifty years old or older and part of the studio was older than fifty years. (2) It would be impossible to move the structure because:
. . . it is 105 ft. long and 30 feet wide. The whole wall of the south side of the kitchen and part of the east side are solid cement walls. The rest of this wall on the south side continues for 50 ft. of solid masonry. To the extreme west on the south side is a film vault 7 ft by 15 ft of cement.
Then on the north side there are seven huge pine posts about 20 feet long on cement blocks. The top of these posts are under huge beams 2 running under the floor of the auditorium and rooms all of which would have to be removed and to do so would leave the whole studio collapse. The building is nearly 50 feet high with a large stone chimney.
Emery continued to sell Ellsworth's book, Through the Grand Canyon from Wyoming to Mexico, in the gift shop and during the last part of 1975 he conceived the idea of reprinting it in paperback. He contacted Northland Press, in Flagstaff and made an agreement with them to do the work. The publication to be paid for in three installments, by July 1976 Emery had made two payments. He wanted the new addition to contain the original Owen Wister foreword that was so critical of Fred Harvey Company and in the back an update on his other river trips. All the arrangements made, the MacMillan Company in New York, who first published the book sent the original plates and Northland Press started the work.[39] After Emery's death his daughter decided not to proceed with republication and recovered the original plates. [40]
Celebrations in his honor and speeches occupied Emery's time. Civic organizations toasted him and universities gave him plaques and honorary degrees. His problems at the Canyon were things of the past, and he began to feel that the world accepted him. While an ingrained feeling was hard to remove completely from his personality it seems Emery let down his guard toward people and become more gentle and less aggressive. He loved young people and tried hard to understand them. He wanted to be a part of the world and knew that by understanding them he could approach this goal. He often stated how lucky he was to have the world still beating a path to his door. Northern Arizona University honored him with an invitation to take part in the homecoming festivities during the last year of his life. He wanted to ride through the streets of Flagstaff on l6 October1976 on a float but the officials of the parade deemed it would be too tiring for him. As an honorary grand marshal he rode in more comfortable surroundings with his daughter Edith and the Mayor of Flagstaff Bob Moody.
Toward the end of 1976 Emery suffered a number of minor heart attacks. The staff of the clinic at Grand Canyon usually felt competent in attending to him. He kept a supply of nitroglycerin tablets at his bedside to use when he felt the necessity. In early December 1976, Emery again suffered an attack. This time the clinic officials thought it more than they could safely handle and took him to the medical facility in Flagstaff. When nearly recovered from the attack he developed pneumonia and on ll December he died. He had a strong will to live and had the pneumonia not developed he might have attained his goal to live to a hundred.
The task of getting clothes to dress him for the funeral fell to Thelma Self. She finally decided to use his tuxedo, the suit he loved best.[41] The funeral service was at the Shrine of the Ages Chapel at Grand Canyon, the Rev. Fred Dodge officiating. The family buried Emery in the Pioneers Cemetery beside his wife Blanche, and across the road from his brother Ellsworth. Emery Kolb was the last of the early Grand Canyon pioneers.
Discovery of a skeleton in the Kolb garage soon after his death cast suspicion on Emery. Many people presumed this to be the remains of Glenn Hyde and pointed the finger of guilt in his direction. Was it the body of Hyde? To solve one mystery the armchair sleuths created another. Where did the skeleton come from and whose bones were found in the old Rust boat secured in the rafters of the Kolb garage? To answer this perhaps it is best to regress a bit. In Through the Grand Canyon from Wyoming to Mexico Ellsworth mentions finding a skeleton in the Canyon when he and Emery were tramping around in 1906. The book stated they buried it under a pile of rocks.[42] Emery makes the next mention of a skeleton in November 1922 in a letter to Cecil B. DeMille, the famous motion picture producer of Paramount Film Corporation. Here he inquired about the possibility of producing a moving picture of their trip down the Colorado river. Emery even went so far to suggest a plot and in so doing explained: "You may remember the signal fire and the little girl at the telescope; and the skeleton in the rocks. The setting, the telescope, and the skeleton are still available." This letter indicates that Emery had access to a skeleton.
Gale Burak said she and Emery talked about the remains once while she worked for him and Emery explained he found the bones years before in an abandoned prospector's shaft somewhere between Grandeur Point and Grand Canyon Village. He had kept the skull in a can around the studio for a long time before he stored the remains in a bag in the garage. Thelma Self relates that Emery Lehnert, Emery's grandson, mentioned long before the death of his grandfather Emery had a skeleton with a bullet hole in the skull in the house and that his grandfather would now and then assemble it on the kitchen table. At the time Lehnert did not know what had become of it.[43] In the summer of 1969 Lewis Farnsworth, Jr. worked as a general helper around the studio. When not busy, he took great pleasure in climbing around over the boat stored in the rafters of the garage and even induced Emery to give him the motor stored there. Lewis claims nothing else was in the boat at the time.[44]
The skeleton seemed to come and go. Shortly after Emery's death Lehnert conducted Robert Buelow, an anthropologist for the National Park Service, through the studio; the tour complete he invited Buelow to the garage to show him something that would perhaps interest him as an anthropologist. Lehnert climbed up, reached into the old canvas boat and began handing down pieces of dust-covered human bones. Buelow turned them over to the park authorities, who in turn delivered them to the Coconino County sheriff's office in Flagstaff where they remain today.[45]
The sheriff's report based on the information given by a forensic specialist at the University of Arizona, indicated the skeleton belonged to a young man between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two- years. The report further stated the person died somewhere between 1972 and 1975 of a gunshot wound in his temple. A question now posed is: was the skeleton found in the boat in Emery's garage the same one Lehnert claims his grandfather assembled on the kitchen table and the one mentioned in the letter to Cecil B. DeMille, or was it the remains of a person placed in the garage just prior to Emery's death? Finding the remains of a man in the Canyon in the early days was not unusual. Many prospectors headed into the gorge and disappeared and possibly some committed suicide rather than starve to death. The idea of murder in those times cannot be entirely ruled out. If the sheriff's department's information is correct Emery was between ninety-three and ninety-five- years- old when someone placed the skeleton in the boat. Further, if this were the case, where did it come from and how did Emery Lehnert know about it within a few days after his grandfather's death? Regardless of how one looks at the story, it would seem impossible for the remains to have been those of Glenn Hyde.
Settling Emery Kolb's estate amounted to a series of wrangling between the heirs and the NPS. With Emery gone, the Park had a building on the rim of the canyon that they had for years wanted to dispose of but historic preservation laws now prohibited that, consequently the government kept the structure with the idea of using it as a museum. Naturally they hoped Edith and Emery Lehnert would willingly donate the furnishings and memorabilia stashed within the structure for seventy years. The heirs had other ideas; if the government had no money for the items they would dispose of them elsewhere.
Kolb Brothers Studio today stands beneath the south rim of the Grand Canyon near the head of Bright Angel Trail as it has since 1904. Emery Kolb won his fight with all who were against him. His dream of having his moving pictures shown to the visitors of Grand Canyon at his auditorium and taking photographs of those on the mules perhaps will again soon become a reality for in 1990 the Grand Canyon Natural History Association began the restoration of the building and opened the gift shop area as a book store. Plans for the renovation of the balance of the structure will proceed as funds become available through sales generated through the studio store.
Emery was in many ways a very conflicting person. He had so many sides that it is hard to do him justice. So much he did not let the public or even his friends know. Many were unaware of his philanthropies and his close attachment to his family. Even with his small stature, his loud bark and his contrary ways he was quite a big man.[46]
[C]hapter 11
1 Letter to the Internal Revenue Service 5 September 1945 mentions Blanche having an internal malignancy.
[2] Letter to Otis Elevator Company 21 August 1947 refers to Blanche's arthritis problem.
[3] After a seige of pneumonia his voice seemed week and did not carry well enough for those in attendance to hear him well.
[4] Interview with Gale Burak 24 October 1988.
[5] Emery set aside a stock dividend for the scholarship . A letter from the Grand Canyon School Board indicates the amount to have been $213 in January 1968. The High School still awarded the scholarship in 1990.
[6] Michael Dean Pace, Emery Kolb: Grand Canyon Photographer and Explorer July 1982. Also oral history tape of Ernest Kolb interview by Julie Russell 26 September 1978.
[7] Oral history tape of Ernest Kolb interviewed by Julie Russell 26 September 1978.
[8] Ibid.
[9] Ibid.
[10] Williams News 13 January 1960.
[11] Oral history tape of Ernest Kolb interview by Julie Russell 26 September 1978.
[12] Interview with Thelma Self 5 November 1988.
[13] Undated manuscript.
[14] Undated article by Ethel W. Schellbach, Arizona Republic State Correspondence.
[15] Interview with Thelma Self 5 November 1988.
[16] Interview with Thelma Self 5 November 1988. Also with Hubert F. Lauzon 17 November 1988
[17] Papers attached to a letter to Wm. H. Lyon 22 March 1969.
[18] Interview with Gale Burak 24 October 1988.
[19] Interview with Lewis K Farnsworth, Jr. 14 November 1988.
[20] Interview with Louis K. Farnsworth, Jr. 14 November 1988.
[21]The bell was an electric door bell or buzzer operated by a lever positioned so the wrangler could reach it from his mule.
[22] Interview with Stan Jones 25 October 1988.
[23] Brochure sold in Kolb Gift shop quoting Gov. Williams' speech.
[24] Oral history tape of John Hoffman interviewed by Michael Pace.
[25] Ibid.
[26] Letter from W. E. Maxwell, General Manager, Grand Canyon National Park Lodges 28 September 1974.
[27] Letter to Jeanne Schick 7 September 1976.
[28] Interview with Lewis Farnsworth, Jr. 14 November 1988.
[29] Letter to Jeanne Schick 9 January 1970.
[30] Letter to Jeanne Schick 15 December 1972
[31] Interview with Gale Burak 24 October 1988.
[32] Ibid.
[33] Interview with Thelma Self 5 November 1988.
[34] Ibid.
[35] Interview with Gale Burak 24 October 1988.
[36] Interview with Louis K Farnsworth, Jr. 14 November 1988.
[37] Interview with Gale Burak 24 October 1988.
[38] Ibid.
[39] Ibid.
[40]Letter from Paul Weaver, November 1988. The present whereabouts of these plates is unknown. The University of Arizona Press reprinted the book in 1989.
[41] Interview with Thelma Self 5 November 1988.
[42] E. L. Kolb, Through the Grand Canyon from Wyoming to Mexico, page 224. Also Emery Kolb's journal entry for 20 December 1911 and Bert Lauzon's journal entry 19 December 1911.
[43] Interview with Thelma Self 5 November 1988.
[44] Interview with Louis K. Farnsworth, Jr. 14 November 1988.
[45] Oral history tape of Robert Buelo interview by J. Moler.
[46] Interview with Gale Burak 24 October 1988.