In Moab, Pioneer Settler and Cowboy, "Negro Bill" Rides Again
In the Old  Testament,
 the land of Moab, also called “The Far Country”, lay east of the  Dead 
Sea, in what we now call Kerak, Jordan. During the 1855 LDS General  
Conference in Salt Lake City, forty Mormon men “were called” to 
establish the  Elk Mountain Mission on the banks of the  Grand  (later, Colorado) River. As memorialized on countless souvenir t-shirts, the “Far Country” would become  Moab, Utah in 1902.
One goal of the mission was to minister to the indigenous  Ute Indians.
 After the  “missionaries” built a stone fort and planted crops, 
conflict soon arose between  the apostles and the Indians. Having built 
their stone mission in what is now  the Matheson Wetlands Preserve,  river flooding, a plague of mosquitoes and  rotting potatoes characterized the growing season of 1855.
Depending on which version of history you prefer, either the Indians 
repeatedly  raided the mission’s meager food supply or the Mormon men 
spurned the offering  of Ute women as potential brides. Either way, a 
gunfight ensued, resulting in  the death of three missionaries and the 
wounding of others.
 With their hay and  corn stocks burned to the ground, the Elk Mountain 
Mission decamped. The  survivors retreated north, seeking shelter at 
other Mormon settlements.
For the next twenty-two years, only trappers, traders and the  Spirit of  Kokopelli visited Moab. No one dared settle there until two pioneers, a Canadian  fur trapper named “Frenchie”
 and a cowboy named Bill Granstaff divided the  spoils and resettled the
 area. Since it was a full generation after the  missionary debacle, the
 two men managed to live in relative harmony with the Ute  Indians. 
Frenchie took the ruins of the Elk Mountain Mission as his home. Bill  
Granstaff ran cattle and lived in a box canyon three miles north, along 
the  Grand River.
Although
 Frenchie was of Canadian origin, Moab-locals variously identified Bill 
 Granstaff as Black, African American or with the more popular and 
catchy  "N-word" epithet. Years later, the good people of Moab ran Bill 
out of town,  ostensibly for selling liquor to the Ute Indians. As 
usual, there was an  alternate version of Moab history. In the alternate
 version, the white folks in  town trumped up false charges in order to 
steal Bill’s cattle. Either way, for  the next eighty-five years, locals
 called Bill Granstaff and his canyon home  “N-word Bill” and “N-word 
Bill Canyon”.
 By
 the 1960s, in deference to the civil rights movement, the canyon where 
Bill  had lived was renamed “Negro Bill Canyon”. Somewhere along the 
line, writers and  historians added the letter “d” to Negro Bill’s name 
and he became Bill  Grandstaff. Later still, 
around 2010, some high-minded Moab folks decided that  Bill’s name was 
actually “William Grandstaff”. The new, politically correct name  made 
no mention of his racial heritage.
By
 the 1960s, in deference to the civil rights movement, the canyon where 
Bill  had lived was renamed “Negro Bill Canyon”. Somewhere along the 
line, writers and  historians added the letter “d” to Negro Bill’s name 
and he became Bill  Grandstaff. Later still, 
around 2010, some high-minded Moab folks decided that  Bill’s name was 
actually “William Grandstaff”. The new, politically correct name  made 
no mention of his racial heritage.
In the 1960s, Moab began preparing for hoards of tourists to come. As
 part of  that plan, the State of Utah paved Highway 128 from Moab to 
Cisco. This newly  paved highway provided easy access to the Colorado 
River (formerly the Grand  River). Other than some tight turns 
overlooking the river, the automobile trip  from Moab to Cisco, Utah and
 on to Interstate I-70 became easy. Until the late  1970s, travelers on 
Highway 128 barely noticed the unsigned and poorly  identified “Negro 
Bill Canyon”. In 1979, an incident involving the “Sagebrush  Rebellion” changed all of that.
In
 this case, the “rebels” included a loose coalition of off-roaders, 
states’  rights advocates and other radical fringe elements. Among the 
luminaries who  expressed sympathy or support for the rebels were 
then-Colorado Governor Richard  Lamm, Utah Senator Orrin Hatch and 
presidential candidate Ronald Reagan. The  collective ire of these 
loosely affiliated groups and individuals focused on  then-President 
Jimmy Carter. In his attempts to protect precious natural  resources, 
the rebels accused President Carter of usurping state and local  power.
In order to open more land to off-roading and prove their point about 
states’  rights, a small group of rebels used a bulldozer to cut a new 
dirt road up Negro  Bill Canyon. The  hiking trail, which bears his name, leads to both Morning Glory  Bridge and the  Negro Bill Wilderness Study Area.
 Although now largely  rehabilitated, the remnants of that 1979 road are
 visible to hikers in the  midsection of Negro Bill Canyon.
After
 the rebels defiled the canyon with their bulldozer, no one knew quite 
what  to do. Over the years, the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) gated 
the trail,  paved a small parking lot, installed pit toilets and erected
 signage identifying  the place as the “Negro Bill Trailhead”. By then, 
participants in the Sagebrush  Rebellion had moved their activities to 
other parts of Utah and the West. Still,  with the recent advent of 
smaller quad-type off-road vehicles, more land has  fallen prey to 
motorized destruction than the Sagebrush Rebels ever imagined  possible.
Around 2010, some high-minded residents and politicians in Moab and 
Grand  County, Utah decided to sanitize several historical places and 
names in the  area. The first to go, they decided, was the offensive 
name, “Negro Bill”. It  was demeaning and inappropriate in the 
twenty-first century, they said. Three  times during the next five 
years, the Grand County Council voted narrowly to  keep the name. When 
they could not eliminate all references to Negro Bill, the  political elite of Moab settled for defiling and destroying old Lions Park,  three miles downstream.
Old Lion’s Club Park
 stood on the spot where the 1855 Elk Mountain Mission first  camped on 
the Moab-side of the Grand River. Stately cottonwood trees that may  
have shaded the missionaries at their first  campground disappeared on March 31,  2015. Along with any vegetation in the park, all of the  classic stone and wooden  signage around the intersection of Highways 191 and 128 disappeared, as well. In  place of the historical wooden signage was a hodgepodge of sanitary looking  metal signs.
 Like
 a plague of rats, the sanitizing of Moab history was on the march, 
heading  upstream toward Negro Bill Canyon. This culminated on September
 27, 2016, when  the all-knowing  BLM Moab Field Office “pulled a fast one”. In the grand  tradition of destroying old  Lions Park,
 the BLM made a stealthy move. Overnight,  and without warning, the BLM 
changed out the historical “Negro Bill Trailhead”  signage and all the 
road signs referencing the site. If the motto of the United  States is, 
“In God We Trust”, the motto of the Moab BLM Field Office might be,  “The BLM Knows Best”.
 Two nights later, the new “William Grandstaff Trailhead”  signs 
disappeared. As of this writing, no one knows who or what spirited the 
new  signs away.
Like
 a plague of rats, the sanitizing of Moab history was on the march, 
heading  upstream toward Negro Bill Canyon. This culminated on September
 27, 2016, when  the all-knowing  BLM Moab Field Office “pulled a fast one”. In the grand  tradition of destroying old  Lions Park,
 the BLM made a stealthy move. Overnight,  and without warning, the BLM 
changed out the historical “Negro Bill Trailhead”  signage and all the 
road signs referencing the site. If the motto of the United  States is, 
“In God We Trust”, the motto of the Moab BLM Field Office might be,  “The BLM Knows Best”.
 Two nights later, the new “William Grandstaff Trailhead”  signs 
disappeared. As of this writing, no one knows who or what spirited the 
new  signs away.
Without a vote or any public comment, the Moab Field Office had dealt 
with the  issue directly. In their infinite wisdom, they had relegated 
Negro Bill and his  former canyon home to  the dustbin of history. Thank you, Moab Field Office for  saving us from our own history. Thank you, “Monkey Wrench Gang”
 for removing and  safely storing the new trailhead signs for the 
edification of future  generations. Because of your actions,  Moab Field Office and you, the politically  correct members of the Grand County Council, we are now closer to the treeless,  sanitized history that you crave.
Then, on August 4, 2017, like a thunderbolt from Mt. Olympus, the  Utah 
Committee  on Geographic Names voted 8-2 in favor of retaining the name,
 “Negro Bill  Canyon” as its official geographical "place name". Since 
the BLM controls the  trailhead and parking area, they can keep their 
newly sanitized signage in  place, unless the “Monkey Wrench Gang”  or some ancient spirit  steals them again.
The three-mile stretch of  Colorado Riverway
 from Moab to Negro Bill Canyon is of  both historical and spiritual 
significance. In that area, the Spirit of the  Ancients is still active,
 as seen by the image of ET (The Extraterrestrial)  recently carved by 
nature in the sandstone cliffs. In addition, Plush Kokopelli  and Coney 
the Traffic Cone have been active in the area. As seen in the  
accompanying photographs, everywhere Plush Kokopelli and Coney go, the 
names on  roadside signs spontaneously change. “William Grandstaff 
Trailhead” reverts to  “Negro Bill Trailhead”. Various  arches fall,  spiritual paths begin and end.  According to the signs, a new “Moab Jim Canyon” also appears, just half a mile  south of Negro Bill Canyon.
Author’s Note - Although
 the mischievous Plush Kokopelli and his shy partner, Coney the Traffic 
Cone were  photographed near the scene of the William Grandstaff 
Trailhead  sign-disappearance in September 2016, there is no evidence 
that either  character played a role in that theft. In fact, Plush 
Kokopelli and Coney  were there to install a new Kokopelli Federal  Credit Union automated teller machine (ATM) at the trailhead parking lot. All fees collected by that new Moab Bank ATM will be used to  install new "Negro Bill Trailhead" signs, should the need arise.
             
By 
		James McGillis
		at 03:13 PM |
		 | Comments 
		(0) | Link
  Tweet
				
				
				

 
