Hampton Cobb Our Friend

 

            This article is written after finding a story about Hampton Cobb written by Kerry Ross Boren.  This is the real story about Hampton .

            Hampton was one of the first neighbors calling on us after our move to Manila , Utah .  He was one of three elderly bachelors who were our closest neighbors.  Hans Micklesen lived to the north and west of about a mile.  Al Meyers lived about two and a half miles north and east.  Hampton lived about a mile and a half from us on the north.

            Margaret was playing on the hill by the house when she saw him come.  Company didn’t come too often, so she was happy to see someone and went to meet him.  He had walked all the way to the Linwood store and back again.  A distance of about eight miles each way.  He had absolutely no use of such unnatural things as cars and trains.  He handed her a sack of gum drops and from that moment on, she thought he was her best friend.  He asked where her Pa was, and she told him he was in the house.  His stride was steady and ample, and the spring in his knees made him kind of bob up and down as he went.  Margaret skipped along beside him, and tried to talk to him with a mouth full of gum drops.

            Hampton couldn’t read or write but he was smart.  He had a good business mind and during his life, accumulated a fair  amount of property and money.  He was one of the most honest of men.  He kept his word and he expected others to do the same.  When they didn’t, he was hurt and disappointed.  Everyone knew that his word was as good as his bond.  He was born and grew to young manhood in “ South Carolina .”  He worked as a mailman and although he couldn’t read, he memorized the name of everyone on his route.  He knew where they all lived, so he was able to get the mail to the right places without a hitch. 

            He fell in love with a young woman and they planned to marry.  He told her he would go out West and earn enough money for them to be able to get married and have their own farm.  He walked all the way to Wyoming and found work herding sheep.  He was a good worker and very dependable.  Earlier he had worked at the Chapman ranch at Woodruff, Utah , when our mother had lived there as a small child.  The Chapman ranch ran both sheep and cattle and had between fifty and sixty men working there.  He saved his money and started buying sheep of his own. 

            During the time that he was in Wyoming and Utah , he thought often about his sweetheart back home.  In a few years he would have enough money to make her his wife.  He couldn’t write, so she never got any letters from him.  It never occurred to him to have someone else write the letters.  Besides, it was too personal to leave to someone else to say the words for him.  Fifteen years passed and for all she knew, he was dead.  When he finally returned to South Carolina to claim his bride, he found her married with children.  He was devastated.  He turned around and went back to where he had worked and built up his herd of sheep. 

            He never married.  His ranch and his herds of sheep and cattle became the only interests in his life.  He was very kind and gentle with his animals, giving many of names.  He often spoke tenderly about his “little daddy bull.”  His dog was his friend, confidant and child.  Even the bees were treated with tenderness when they took up residence in his house.  He couldn’t bear to have them killed.  When his little one room house was later moved and remodeled it was found that the walls were filled solid with honey.

            He named places on his ranch also.  There were fields called the Strawberry Patch, the Banana Belt, and the Orange Grove.  At an altitude of 7,000 feet on the Utah-Wyoming border, on the north slope of the High Uintahs, the names sounded a little ridiculous.  They reminded him of his home in the South and  they were and are all hay fields, those names still apply.  He didn’t spend much on himself

            On Thanksgiving or Christmas, our mother,  Sara Olson, always invited Hampton to come and spend the holiday with the family.  He seemed to enjoy it.  He was very polite and always thanked her for the good dinner.  When he came, he greeted the children with a little sack of candy.  He would walk to Linwood and buy some new Levis and a new shirt so that he had on all new clothes for the event.  He became a very close friend. 

            Our father, J. Kent Olson, helped him with legal documents and prepared his tax forms.  Hampton trusted him implicitly with his business affairs.  He took this responsibility very seriously and did everything he could to protect Hampton ’s interests. 

            Hampton was a very sweet and gentle man and was loved by the whole family.  Other than his addiction to chewing tobacco, it is doubtful that this kindly old man had many sins.

            Hampton had a sister living in the Bay Area in California .   When he could no longer take care of himself, she took him to live with her.  She died shortly after and her daughter then placed Hampton in a rest home.

            While we were living in California , Mom and Dad came to visit.  They went to visit Hampton .  He cried when he saw them.  When he died out there in California , there was no one around that he knew or that cared anything for him except us.   We went to the Mortuary to view the body.  There was no funeral.  Ours were the only names in the guest book.

            He had sold his ranch to our Father, and was given the promise that he could live in his old house anytime.  Perhaps he had a faint hope that maybe some day he could go back home because he kept his pocket knife and the key to his little house in his pocket until the day he died.

              Hampton was our very good friend.

 

            Leta Olson Wahlquist

            Margaret Olson Williams