Inscription on headstone:
UNKNOWN COWBOY
FIRST GRAVE
APPROX. 1890
The following is an article that appeared in the Amarillo Daily News on May 3, 1972 by reporter Luron Brown. I want to thank Renita Purcell for sending it to me.
ONLY GRAVES NOW MARK THE SITE OF EDGIN
The unmarked grave of a cowboy who was "two slow on the draw" stands in Edgin cemetery, the only remaining marks of a once lively hamlet eight miles south of Quitaque.
Perhaps another 75 have been interred in the 90 years since the unknown rider became the first to rest in the gravel land promontory. Mesquite crowds the deep ruts of the road to the burying grounds, but the hill affords a sweeping view of the uninhabited countryside. Acute solitude intensifies the impact of arrayed tombstones. You could stand here and look right into tomorrow and not see a human, remarked an old timer.
J. R. Stroup, 68 recalls his father telling of the unknown cowboy. "My father had a brother, Elmer, living at Mt Morrison Colo", Stroup says. "A neighbor on learning of the Quitaque visitor coming, ask to see him alone. My Uncle guided my father to a creek, where he stopped and pointed to a cabin in the brush across the stream."
The Texan entered the cabin introduced himself, and after a few general remarks, began inquiring about landmarks. After hearing a description of a ridge overlooking Quitaque Creek and a red bluff, Stroup's father was convinced the man had been there. Telling of the grave and how he had ridden past it on horseback for many years, the stranger asked a favor, "upkeep of the burial spot so it won't be lost."
The stranger had an evasive story about a cowboy who was "too slow on the draw," but whose parents were good people who would appreciate care of the grave site.
The next ridge burial was also a cowboy with his boots on, but not violently. Stroup said he had been told that the rider's horse threw him on a trail drive across the creek. W. W. Merrell 78, born and reared here, said his mother told of the stream crossing on a hot day when the rider dismounted to quench his thirst. Taking his saddle to the ground for a headrest, he lay down in the shade of a cottonwood tree and died. Both versions agree that the chuck wagon was dismantled an the boards used to make a coffin. Occupant of the unmarked ridge grave is reputed by some to be the first cowboy and by others the trail hand.
It is certain that a school named Goodnight once was operated here. When the Fort Worth & Denver railroad came, the schoolhouse, general mercantile store blacksmith shop and the few other business buildings became ghostly vacant spaces. Switch men on the rail line named the area Edgin. Other outsiders once called the locality Grey Mule. "We don't like that name", Merrell declares. "This is a horse and cow country, not mule country."
Disregarding details of the demise of the two cowboys or the town, and perhaps of the lack in the latter case, two unknown cowboys rest on an outlook over winding Quitaque Creek and the red bluffs down which they rode. Their legend is a distinction usually reserved for men who died nobler deaths.
UNKNOWN COWBOY
FIRST GRAVE
APPROX. 1890
The following is an article that appeared in the Amarillo Daily News on May 3, 1972 by reporter Luron Brown. I want to thank Renita Purcell for sending it to me.
ONLY GRAVES NOW MARK THE SITE OF EDGIN
The unmarked grave of a cowboy who was "two slow on the draw" stands in Edgin cemetery, the only remaining marks of a once lively hamlet eight miles south of Quitaque.
Perhaps another 75 have been interred in the 90 years since the unknown rider became the first to rest in the gravel land promontory. Mesquite crowds the deep ruts of the road to the burying grounds, but the hill affords a sweeping view of the uninhabited countryside. Acute solitude intensifies the impact of arrayed tombstones. You could stand here and look right into tomorrow and not see a human, remarked an old timer.
J. R. Stroup, 68 recalls his father telling of the unknown cowboy. "My father had a brother, Elmer, living at Mt Morrison Colo", Stroup says. "A neighbor on learning of the Quitaque visitor coming, ask to see him alone. My Uncle guided my father to a creek, where he stopped and pointed to a cabin in the brush across the stream."
The Texan entered the cabin introduced himself, and after a few general remarks, began inquiring about landmarks. After hearing a description of a ridge overlooking Quitaque Creek and a red bluff, Stroup's father was convinced the man had been there. Telling of the grave and how he had ridden past it on horseback for many years, the stranger asked a favor, "upkeep of the burial spot so it won't be lost."
The stranger had an evasive story about a cowboy who was "too slow on the draw," but whose parents were good people who would appreciate care of the grave site.
The next ridge burial was also a cowboy with his boots on, but not violently. Stroup said he had been told that the rider's horse threw him on a trail drive across the creek. W. W. Merrell 78, born and reared here, said his mother told of the stream crossing on a hot day when the rider dismounted to quench his thirst. Taking his saddle to the ground for a headrest, he lay down in the shade of a cottonwood tree and died. Both versions agree that the chuck wagon was dismantled an the boards used to make a coffin. Occupant of the unmarked ridge grave is reputed by some to be the first cowboy and by others the trail hand.
It is certain that a school named Goodnight once was operated here. When the Fort Worth & Denver railroad came, the schoolhouse, general mercantile store blacksmith shop and the few other business buildings became ghostly vacant spaces. Switch men on the rail line named the area Edgin. Other outsiders once called the locality Grey Mule. "We don't like that name", Merrell declares. "This is a horse and cow country, not mule country."
Disregarding details of the demise of the two cowboys or the town, and perhaps of the lack in the latter case, two unknown cowboys rest on an outlook over winding Quitaque Creek and the red bluffs down which they rode. Their legend is a distinction usually reserved for men who died nobler deaths.
Inscription on headstone:
UNKNOWN COWBOY
FIRST GRAVE
APPROX. 1890
The following is an article that appeared in the Amarillo Daily News on May 3, 1972 by reporter Luron Brown. I want to thank Renita Purcell for sending it to me.
ONLY GRAVES NOW MARK THE SITE OF EDGIN
The unmarked grave of a cowboy who was "two slow on the draw" stands in Edgin cemetery, the only remaining marks of a once lively hamlet eight miles south of Quitaque.
Perhaps another 75 have been interred in the 90 years since the unknown rider became the first to rest in the gravel land promontory. Mesquite crowds the deep ruts of the road to the burying grounds, but the hill affords a sweeping view of the uninhabited countryside. Acute solitude intensifies the impact of arrayed tombstones. You could stand here and look right into tomorrow and not see a human, remarked an old timer.
J. R. Stroup, 68 recalls his father telling of the unknown cowboy. "My father had a brother, Elmer, living at Mt Morrison Colo", Stroup says. "A neighbor on learning of the Quitaque visitor coming, ask to see him alone. My Uncle guided my father to a creek, where he stopped and pointed to a cabin in the brush across the stream."
The Texan entered the cabin introduced himself, and after a few general remarks, began inquiring about landmarks. After hearing a description of a ridge overlooking Quitaque Creek and a red bluff, Stroup's father was convinced the man had been there. Telling of the grave and how he had ridden past it on horseback for many years, the stranger asked a favor, "upkeep of the burial spot so it won't be lost."
The stranger had an evasive story about a cowboy who was "too slow on the draw," but whose parents were good people who would appreciate care of the grave site.
The next ridge burial was also a cowboy with his boots on, but not violently. Stroup said he had been told that the rider's horse threw him on a trail drive across the creek. W. W. Merrell 78, born and reared here, said his mother told of the stream crossing on a hot day when the rider dismounted to quench his thirst. Taking his saddle to the ground for a headrest, he lay down in the shade of a cottonwood tree and died. Both versions agree that the chuck wagon was dismantled an the boards used to make a coffin. Occupant of the unmarked ridge grave is reputed by some to be the first cowboy and by others the trail hand.
It is certain that a school named Goodnight once was operated here. When the Fort Worth & Denver railroad came, the schoolhouse, general mercantile store blacksmith shop and the few other business buildings became ghostly vacant spaces. Switch men on the rail line named the area Edgin. Other outsiders once called the locality Grey Mule. "We don't like that name", Merrell declares. "This is a horse and cow country, not mule country."
Disregarding details of the demise of the two cowboys or the town, and perhaps of the lack in the latter case, two unknown cowboys rest on an outlook over winding Quitaque Creek and the red bluffs down which they rode. Their legend is a distinction usually reserved for men who died nobler deaths.
UNKNOWN COWBOY
FIRST GRAVE
APPROX. 1890
The following is an article that appeared in the Amarillo Daily News on May 3, 1972 by reporter Luron Brown. I want to thank Renita Purcell for sending it to me.
ONLY GRAVES NOW MARK THE SITE OF EDGIN
The unmarked grave of a cowboy who was "two slow on the draw" stands in Edgin cemetery, the only remaining marks of a once lively hamlet eight miles south of Quitaque.
Perhaps another 75 have been interred in the 90 years since the unknown rider became the first to rest in the gravel land promontory. Mesquite crowds the deep ruts of the road to the burying grounds, but the hill affords a sweeping view of the uninhabited countryside. Acute solitude intensifies the impact of arrayed tombstones. You could stand here and look right into tomorrow and not see a human, remarked an old timer.
J. R. Stroup, 68 recalls his father telling of the unknown cowboy. "My father had a brother, Elmer, living at Mt Morrison Colo", Stroup says. "A neighbor on learning of the Quitaque visitor coming, ask to see him alone. My Uncle guided my father to a creek, where he stopped and pointed to a cabin in the brush across the stream."
The Texan entered the cabin introduced himself, and after a few general remarks, began inquiring about landmarks. After hearing a description of a ridge overlooking Quitaque Creek and a red bluff, Stroup's father was convinced the man had been there. Telling of the grave and how he had ridden past it on horseback for many years, the stranger asked a favor, "upkeep of the burial spot so it won't be lost."
The stranger had an evasive story about a cowboy who was "too slow on the draw," but whose parents were good people who would appreciate care of the grave site.
The next ridge burial was also a cowboy with his boots on, but not violently. Stroup said he had been told that the rider's horse threw him on a trail drive across the creek. W. W. Merrell 78, born and reared here, said his mother told of the stream crossing on a hot day when the rider dismounted to quench his thirst. Taking his saddle to the ground for a headrest, he lay down in the shade of a cottonwood tree and died. Both versions agree that the chuck wagon was dismantled an the boards used to make a coffin. Occupant of the unmarked ridge grave is reputed by some to be the first cowboy and by others the trail hand.
It is certain that a school named Goodnight once was operated here. When the Fort Worth & Denver railroad came, the schoolhouse, general mercantile store blacksmith shop and the few other business buildings became ghostly vacant spaces. Switch men on the rail line named the area Edgin. Other outsiders once called the locality Grey Mule. "We don't like that name", Merrell declares. "This is a horse and cow country, not mule country."
Disregarding details of the demise of the two cowboys or the town, and perhaps of the lack in the latter case, two unknown cowboys rest on an outlook over winding Quitaque Creek and the red bluffs down which they rode. Their legend is a distinction usually reserved for men who died nobler deaths.
