CHARLES HENRY 'HANK' SHARP----By Laura "Lollie" Robinson Shoecraft (a granddaughter)

I guess my most "fun" memory of Grandpa would be the dances at Dry Valley. It was a great old ranch house and when it was full of happy, laughing people, they added to the charm of it. Friends of Grandpa were there from all around the country--including the Blue. Of course, there were family members by the dozens. There was lots and lots of good food brought by everyone---the best being Aunt Zola's bread, Aunt Billie's chocolate cake and my Mother's pies. I really don't remember, but I'll bet the men did open pit barbacue. The vegetables were a natural because of the wonderful gardens that all of them had. The dancing was fun--everyone, young and old, did their "thing" on the dance floor. I say "thing" for some of it was not dancing but just jumping up and down.. I know, for I was one that was jumping up and down. Grandpa was the center of all of it. He danced with every lady and every little girl, The music (especially Uncle Floyd's fiddling) made you want to dance. To me, it was magic. The cousins I remember were Richard, Leonard, Charlie and Darrell--none of them were dancers. Margaret Swapp Laney was the only girl close to my age.

Memories of the house centered around the big kitchen and the dining room--the dining room had a long table and benches on each side of it. I remember a built in or just a big cupboard but Margaret tells me that isn't so. She thinks I am remembering benches built across the end of the room. I don't ever remember sitting in the living room--I don't think people sat around in those days--they always had something to do. The front porch was an important place for they did gather there to visit --with those who were living there or those who were riding by. There was a long lane leading to the house, from the road. (My parents-John and Laura Robinson lived in a little house on that lane--it was their first home--this was the early 1900's). The " water well " was down the hill from the house--out toward the back. The water from it was always cold--the sides of the well were made of boards and was probably about four feet high. Above it was a frame work that held the pulley, that pulled the bucket from the well. Actually, there was a cotton rope that fed around the pulley--you had to pull the water, in the bucket, up from the well---the water was absolutely delicious!! The big draw back---the cotton rope got wet from the water in the well and as you pulled, the water ran down your arm ,even to your arm pit and it was COLD. As I think of it, a tall person would not have that problem. There was a tin dipper, hanging on a hook,--there for anyone going by to have a drink of water..

I remember a straight backed chair on the front porch--Grandpa sat there for hours as he got older--or maybe he was sitting there watching his grandkids get into trouble. We, cousins, loved to walk the fences that were two posts set apart and other posts dropped in between them. It made a perfect walkway along the top. He was quiet untill we got to the pig pens and then he would jump up and yell , " You girls get out here and do something about these !#"//* kids". He was afraid we would fall into the pig pen--if a sow has babies, she will kill for them. We didn't think of that or care. We learned we could get him angry so we would always do it again--just to hear him yell. "You girls", referred to my Mother, Aunt Zola or any of the other of his daughters that were around.

But, let's go back for awhile. He was born in Des Moine, Iowa on Dec. 25, 1855. His father may have been named William, and his Mother, Martha. There is no record that this is true--William was from Indiana, as far as we know, and Martha was from Ireland, ---as far as we know. There is also no proof of sibblings but there are some who think he had a sister Mary and a brother Abel. The story goes, that his father fought in the Civil War for another person--I understand this was done a lot at that point in time. He either died during the war or as a result of it. After his death, his wife remarried--no known name. The man was a severe person and beat Hank (grandpa) many times. Hank was between nine and twelve when he ran away from home. His mother watched him through the window as he left. He joined a wagon train going "out west". His job, along the way was to herd the pigs. There don't seem to be any stories along the way--except for one. At some point, the wagon train had stopped for the night and the men (including Hank who could have been 14 by this time) had gone out to hunt for game. A band of Indians came into their camp and killed some of the people--mostly women and children. In retaliation, the men from the wagon train chased the Indians down and killed them. This was late enough in history that the Indians were protected by law. There were then, warrents out for all the men that took part in the killing---including Hank. Government warrents are valid for life. These men were "on the run" for a time. There are some holes in this story but I have put it here in case someone ,out there, may have heard it also .

At age 15, He was in the Dolores, Colorado area. He wandered in (riding horseback) to the Johnson Horse Ranch. He asked for a job and tho he didn't look very useful, Charlie Johnson did hire him. He worked for them for twelve years. There, he learned about horses and the ways of a cowboy. Charlie Johnson owned thoroughbred horses and also ran cattle on his land. It was a huge spread. He became good friends with Hattie Johnson who was the youngest daughter in the Johnson family. She later married and became Hattie Porter---none the less, she and Hank remained close friends for life. She and her husband went to Des Moine, Iowa on their honeymoon She visited Hank's mother while she was there--Hank had ask her to carry a message to his Mother--the message, that he was well. For several years after this, Hank's mother and Hattie corresponded.

In general, Hank disliked Indians. He fought in the Blue Mountain Indian War in Utah in the 1880's. At some point in time, he shot an Indian--the shot blew off his ear but the Indian did not die. The indian later named his son "Wild Hank Sharp" so the boy would remember who he was to kill, when he grew up. He never did...kill Hank, that is. There was a story going that Grandpa was "Wild Hank Sharp" and that he was an indian interpreter. No doubt he could understand a little of their languages but he certainly wasn't fluent. There is a picture circulating of a group of people--mostly indians--three whites. They were settling some sort of dispute. Some say Grandpa is the one they list as "Wild Hank Sharp". I don't think so--it is an indian man and probably the man who was destined to kill Hank,but failed.

Hank first met our Grandmother, Anna Mae Bennitt in southern Colorado. She was married to Samuel Nash at the time. She had brought her husband to Colorado hoping to heal him of tuberculosis. He died in a camp one night--a camp where Hank and other cowboys were also staying. They buried him in some of Hank's clothes. The cowboys took up a collection to help Anna Mae return to her home in Missouri. They had one son but he had died while still a baby. Some say Sam Nash was a railroad man and, if he was , it had to have been in Missouri..

Hank continued to think of Anna Mae and finally went to Missouri to ask her to marry him. He figured he would throw his hat in the door, when he got there--if she ask him in, that would be great and if she threw his hat back to him, he would just go on down the road Sure nuff--they were married. They came west, to Arizona, and settled in Nutrioso. They lived in a small house in town where their seven children were born---well, actually Inez was born in Missouri. Grandma went home to her family when that baby was born.

During those years, Hank worked for The Twenty-Four Cattle Company--an English spread owned by Smith and Tee, with headquarters 12 miles north of Springerville. Their summer range, in the White Mountains, ran from McNary to Sheep Springs. Hank Sharp, of Nutrioso, was the range boss. There is a great story of Hank and a bear that happened about this time.
 

He was a Deputy Sheriff of Apache county when Arizona was a territory--He also served as an under sheriff. He ran for sheriff but was not elected. [He was not Mormon.] In those days, everyone's cattle ran together on the range land. Each year they had big roundups--collecting together all the cattle. Then they were separated by brand and the steers were sold. Hank served as the range boss. He was a great cowboy and horseman and was well liked by everyone. He always wore a vest and under the vest he kept a knife and a gun.--more for working cattle than for protection from any man---( I think. )

After Anna Mae died, the children pretty much had to care for themselves. Laura was 13 and Zola very close in age, to her.. They really raised the other kids but both insisted that Grandpa was always there for them.

They were not living at Dry Valley at this time.. When Laura was about 22, around 1913, Lavern Bennitt died. He was the father of Anna Mae and the grandfather of the seven children. He left them 160 acres in Missouri. Hank asked the court to award him guardianship of the six younger children--Laura was over twenty-one.. The court did award him the guardianship and with the money, it seems, he did buy the land that was " Dry Valley". There were four plots of land at the foot of Gobbler's Peak.

I remember him, almost always, with a beard--but I sorta remember him without one. He didn't always wear boots--sometimes he wore work shoes. Most always Levies. He always looked the same to me. I was in awe of him and I never remember speaking to him or-- him speaking to me. That was not his fault--I was totally timid. I was not afraid of him--I thought he was just great.

People respected him and came to him for all sorts of advice. I always thought it laughable that they could have a warrent out for him while he was serving as Deputy Sheriff.

I remember him sitting on the front steps of the Ranger Station in Alpine, Arizona when he lived with Aunt Inez. Her husband was Roy Swapp who was a Forest Ranger. He sat there for hours, whittling---talking with anyone that came along. This was when he was an old man and had lots to ponder.

I remember him saying the huge pine tree, in front of the house at Dry Valley, proved that lightening really did strike more than once--in the same place. The last picture I saw of the tree--it was totally witthout pine needles.

I remember Uncle Weg or Uncle Claire getting their first pickup--Grandpa rode in it, but, with his hand on the handle of the door, so he could jump out any time he felt he needed to.

He nicknamed some of his grandchildren. I was not one of them---Anna, he called "Muggins" and I don't remember the others.

He stayed with Mother (Laura) for a short time in 1941......in Florence. They took all his whisky away from him for they said it would kill him. He was about 87 and whisky probably helped to keep him alive that long. Anyway, Mother didn't think he was getting whiskey from anyone but he was...he asked my husband, Charlie Shoecraft, if he wanted a drink out of his bottle. Charlie made believe he drank , from it, for it was so bad he couldn't swallow it. They should have let him have good whisky.

We have all searched for the deep dark secrets in his life--I don't believe there were any. He was a young man who ran away from home because he had been badly beaten. He came west and had one really tough life with lots of interesting things happening to him. I think he would be astounded to think of his life as different from anyone growing up in , and living the times he did. If he could talk to us now, he would say--".Why didn't you ask me, I would have told you all about my life".