Showing posts with label vanished. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vanished. Show all posts

Monday, July 19, 2021

EVERETT RUESS: A HAUNTING MYSTERY



Everett Ruess
(1914-1934?)



"When I go, I leave no trace."
Everett Ruess


I have long been haunted by the fascinating and mysterious story of Everett Ruess. Like all true-life enigmas, he harbored a multitude of dimensions and was a mass of contradictions. His facets were kaleidoscopic and his talents were many : writer, artist, poet, diarist. He was outgoing, courageous, a fearless adventurer. Yet he was also erudite, an aesthete - - intensely sensitive, highly romantic.

Everett Ruess wrote over 175,000 pages of letters, journals, and poems. He painted more than 100 watercolors, and made countless woodblocks and sketches. These would have been admirable lifetime accomplishments for anyone. Ruess did this during the span of only a few short years and at an extraordinarily young age. He was only twenty years old when he vanished in the Utah desert, never to be heard from again.

  Ruess at age 16
with burro and dog Curly, 1930

  Ruess had a fierce aversion to cities and mundane conventional existence - - preferring to be a perpetual wanderer and explorer. He felt most comfortable alone in the isolation and beauty of nature. He was a minimalist and naturalist - - spending the last four years of his life exploring the High Sierras and the remote areas of Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, and Utah.




Woodblocks by Ruess




He rode broncos, branded calves, resided with Indians, learned to speak the Navajo language. He traveled entirely alone on foot or horseback, sometimes using burros as pack animals. During his travels he painted watercolors and made woodblocks, and wrote highly descriptive letters to his parents and brother who lived in Los Angeles.



Watercolor by Ruess



Ruess was born in 1914. He was raised in Southern California, graduated from Hollywood High School, and studied for only five months at UCLA before becoming restless and yearning to travel. His mother (Stella Knight Ruess) was a respected artist and poetess. His father (Christopher) was a professor at UCLA. Both parents encouraged their son to be a free spirit and follow his adventurous instincts.

In the summer of 1930, at age sixteen, Ruess hitchhiked from Los Angeles north to Carmel, where he met famed photographers Ansel Adams and Edward Weston. He later spent some time in San Francisco, leading a Bohemian life with other artists and writers. In 1931, at age seventeen, he walked across the Painted Desert in Arizona, trekked to the Grand Canyon, and thereafter was obsessed with exploring the wilderness of the American Southwest.

In November, 1934, after a stint in Escalante, Utah, he set out alone in the remote desert canyons. He was never heard from again. Four months later his two burros were found southeast of Escalante, along with human footprints and empty food cans. Extensive searches found no other traces of Reuss.

 Ruess and burro
Zion National Park, Utah


With the discovery of skeletal remains in 2009, it was initially believed that the body of Everett Ruess had finally been found. The first DNA test was inconclusive. The second test revealed that the remains were definitely not those of Ruess. The bones were that of a six-foot tall, mature Navajo man. Ruess was a small 5' 7" and only twenty years old. So the mystery continues.

Many theories exist as to what exactly happened to Everett Ruess. He certainly could have had an accident or succumbed to the harsh elements. Another very plausible theory is murder. Ruess was a friendly and trusting youth, who had befriended many unsavory characters in the past.

The theory that Ruess purposefully vanished is remote but still popular. His letters are seasoned with mysterious and romanticized notions:

"I must pack my short life full of interesting events and creative activity. Then, before physical deterioration obtrudes, I shall go on some last wilderness trip to a place I have known and loved. I shall not return."

To say that Everett Ruess was brilliant is an understatement. Reading his diaries and letters is imperative to understanding the depths of his soul. Most of his writings have been published. A wide array of biographies about Ruess are available, and several documentary films have been made.

There is something intensely romantic about a mystery. Vanishing without a trace lends itself to a special kind of immortality and is the stuff that perpetuates dreams and creates legends.

Everett Ruess was fascinating in life and even more intriguing in the absence of death.........

Jon V.
(copyright 2014) 

 

 

Note:

I initially posted this several years ago and thought it's worth a rerun. I also wrote a follow-up post (part two) which I'll share soon.
                                                                                                       

Photo of Ruess and his burros

 

Friday, February 23, 2018

VANISHED


 Have you ever written something for your blog and - moments after posting it - the temperature suddenly drops, the sun vanishes, and an icy wind blows through the room?

I (quite reluctantly) removed my two recent posts. Miraculously, the sunshine immediately reappeared and the temperature warmed up to tropical proportions.
The ice vanished, along with my amazingly entertaining and well-contrived personal opinions.

No lie. On this glorious morning a delightfully warm breeze is blowing and the temp is near 70 degrees (that's Fahrenheit, for those of you in North Korea).

Jon, it's your blog. You can write whatever you want.

Not so, Kemosabe.
Becoming a blogger is equivalent to a baptism. You are submitting your soul to the public masses, who will more than eagerly rip it to shreds and throw it to the dogs if you dare step out of line.

Que estas tratando de decir?

Let's just say that there's a blogging Safe Zone, which consists of writing benign (and incredibly boring) posts about the weather and pet cats.
And posting uninteresting photos - which I'll do today. 

Change of subject...and not a moment too soon....

Does anybody remember, awhile ago, when my computer and landline phone connection were switched from copper cables to new-and-improved fiber optics?

My laptop computer works fine. BUT, ever since that day of the switch, I hadn't been able to get an Internet connection on my desktop computer.

I tried everything possible (and some things that were impossible). I consulted computer "experts" (who were baffled).
I spent miserable untold hours searching for anything (and everything) that could even remotely help solve the problem.

Finally I said "To hell with expert opinions. I'll try to fix it myself."

After a tedious amount of detective work, I discovered that one tiny wire had been installed incorrectly and wasn't hooked up.
Voila! Problem solved.

Moral of the story?
Never give up.
And if a lynch mob is after you -
run as fast as you can.

Photos, anyone?
I wandered around the "yard" this morning with my El Cheapo camera, unsuccessfully trying to photograph something interesting.


It's a dull, bland time of year but the weather feels like spring.








My cat Scratch (also known as Kitzee),
who doesn't really care what I write.