The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-11-05
QUEER CAPT. HANCE.
A Strange Man Living Alone on the
Rim of a Terrible Abyss.
From the Pittsburg Dispatch.


The man who ought to be remembered
with the Grand Canon of the Colorado is
not the scientist, nor painter, nor poet.
He is only an old pioneer who has sum-
mered and wintered with the Grand
Canon for twelve years. His name is John
Hance. Some people call him old John
Hance, and he calls himself, at times, Old
Capt. John Hance, and believe he has a
military record to back up the title. 1t
doesn't matter, he holds better one.
Your friends who have been to the Canon
will say: "See the canon, of course, but
don't fail to see old John Hance," and so
| far as may be able / hereby celebrate,
also, the personality Of the man who made
the canon his home when 1t was practt-
cally an unexplored wonder
1 do not care to go behind the old mans
own statement of the case. for that state
ment is so good 1t ought to be final, even
If II isn't.
In the summer Of 1869 Maj Powell and
party made the only descent by boat that
has ever been known in this stupendous
gorge. But what of that? In 1888 John
Hance settled in the canon-came upon it
in prospecting tour, admired it, loved
1t, and has lived with it ever since and ex-
poets to die beside 1t and be buried in IT.
God willing and man aiding.
1t is a pleasure to have visited the
Grand Canon and an honor to have ex-
plored It, but 1t is a glory to have loved
It and lived beside 1t TO the exclusion of
neighbors, friends, wife, children and
mother. 1t has claimed all there Is OF
John Hance. His loyalty is unquestloned.
He talks of 1t, dreams of it, his gestures
delineate II, his talk conforms to 1t.
In summer he lives on the rim, and the
door Of his little cabin commands one Of
the finest views of the most tremendous
gulf In the world-the point where the
Colorado river breaks through the Buck
skin plateau. AT sunset, when his even
ing snack is eaten, John can pull a stool
to the very edge Of the awful chasm and
there sit and smoke his pipe and watch
the splendid colors shift and glow, and
cool, and darken in the deeps, and fare
behind the sculptured peaks like banners,
as IL some hidden flaming fire were trying
TO Guido the glory of the sky.
He chose this site because he loved 1t.
He had a cabin at first which was more
sheltered by the pines, but he couldn't see
his canon, so he moved. Here he lives,
surrounded by his mules until October
comes-and then, when the cold winds
threaten and snow begins to slide along
the high plateau, John mounts his favor
lite mule. and driving all his cattle before
him, descends 5000 feet and finds per-
petual summer.
On the sage-green bushes a thousand
feet above the river hts cattle feed. In his
tent among the mesquite trees the old
pioneer lives. while far above him the
harsh winds howl and the whirling snow
falls foot by foot, blocking every road and
piling high above his cabin.
At his door the sullen, fawney-red flood
roars, laden with millions Of tons Of soil,
crushing It's mighty boulders together,
gnawing upon the cliffs, sinking Itself In
the solid rock like file into an anvil. In
the daytime, as John works at his forge,