Deaf Smith County, Texas Deaf Smith County, Texas, was named for "Erastus "Deaf" Smith, a Texas scout and Indian Fighter and also a participant in the Battle of San Antonio and the Battle of San Jacinto. He was born in New York on April 19, 1787. Smith was "hard of hearing" at an early age, which caused him to "remain silent and fond of solitude". This led him to become observant and get to know the land around him well. In turn, this enabled him to pass valuable information for the Texas revolution. His monument says, "Deaf Smith, The Texas Spy."
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One of the most famous stagecoach operations in Texas was the Butterfield Overland Mail. This overland route was headed by John Butterfield of Utica, New York, and ran from St. Louis and Memphis, crossing the Red River at Colbert's Ferry in Grayson County and continuing across Texas for 282 miles to El Paso, swung south across a barren plain between the Concho and Pecos rivers, where water was in short supply, past Horsehead Crossing on the Pecos, up the east bank to Pope's Camp, where it crossed the river, hugged the west bank northwestward to Delaware Spring, and then turned westward through Guadalupe Pass to Nueco Tanks and El Paso. From there it continued westward through Tucson and Fort Yuma to San Diego, California. SuBee Enterprises, Inc. & Bartel's Mancos Valley Stageline
A Story of Charlie Packhurst Driving a stagecoach, full of passengers, loaded with baggage, mail and probably gold dust over the Sierra Nevadas was a hair-raising operation. It required skilled drivers who took danger and hardship in stride.
Charlie Parkhurst was one of the earliest and best of these drivers. He drove for nearly 20 years in California. Twice Charlie was held up. The first time, without a gun, he was forced to throw down the strongbox. The second time Charlie was prepared. When he heard the command to halt, he whirled, fired a shot gun blast into the chest of the outlaw and escaped.
Toward the end of the 1860s. Charlie had had enough of the mud, the dust and the ruts. His hands were crippled with rheumatism and he retired. He opened a stage station and saloon on the road between Watsonville and Santa Cruz. Later, he did some cattle ranching and, after he could no longer sit in a saddle, raised chickens near Aptos.
Finally, old age and failing health drove him to a small cabin near Watsonville where he died on December 29, 1879.
Very little is known about Parkhurst before or after he came West. He was born somewhere in New Hampshire and as a youngster ran away to Providence, R.I., either from his uncle's farm or an orphanage. He got a job as a stable boy. It was natural to become a driver and Charlie drove steadily before coming to California in 1850.
He was small (only about 5'6"), slim and wiry, with alert gray eyes. He rarely smiled but was well liked, Apparently shy, Parkhurst never volunteered information about himself. Not an uncommon trait in those days. When he did speak it was in an oddly sharp high pitched voice.
When his body was prepared for burial, it was discovered that Charlie was a woman! And, a doctor maintained, at some point in her life, a mother. When Charlie cast a ballot in an election on November 3, 1868, he became the first woman to vote - 52 years before that right was guaranteed to women by the 19th Amendment. |
SNUFF BOXES By David J. Dill
I took my Yearlings To the feed lot today. And I wrote a new poem, Thanks to the boss, Robert J.
He liked my rhyme "Bout a cowboys truck, 'Cause at workin' with cowboys, He's had lots a luck.
He said "Cowboys ...God loves them, And I do too. But their book keepin' and memos, Need replaced, Somethin' new.
They keep books an' memos on the bottom, Of a box of snuff. Readin' and understandin' Sometimes gets tuff.
The real problem He says it seems Is the last time that snuff box Comes out'a them jeans.
They toss it without givin' a thought To the sufferin' All them lost memos have brought.
But the'll saddle their hoss To go pick it up. Out there in the feed lot Amongst the mud and the muck.
If they'd just write all them figures On the brim of their hat. When they were needed They'd know where there at.
'Cause a cowboy may loose notes on snuff boxes And stuff like that. But if he ain't lost his head He ain't lost his hat.
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