Echoes From the Canyon

The very first episode of the brand new Echoes from the Canyon Radio Hour shares the tall tales, disappearances, folklore, and unbelievable mysteries found at the Grand Canyon. Developed by park rangers using first-hand accounts and primary documents, human history comes alive in this new series. Mysteries abound in the Grand Canyon!

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TRANSCRIPT:

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Introduction: The human history at the Grand Canyon is as varied and unique as the canyon itself. From ancient First Peoples, to Spanish Conquistadors, to a modern assortment of oddballs, dreamers, and entrepreneurs. These are their stories. This...is Echoes from the Canyon.

Segment One: Inspired by exciting tales of recent river trips, young newlyweds Glen and Bessie Hyde fantasized about the rapids of the Colorado River during a summer of tending family fields in Idaho. Soon after harvest was stored for the year, they made their way to Green River, Utah to gather supplies and build their vessel, a flat-bottomed sweep scow. On October 20th, 1928, they began their journey, launching on the river they would never leave...

I was planning to join my son and Bessie. I should have been with them. They say I should stop searching, but I can’t. I know the possibility of finding them alive is not good, but there might be a chance, I know my boy. Even though he and Bessie only know the canyon through books and maps I know Glen can survive in any environment. I taught him how. It was just the two of us for so long, ever since my Mary left us when Glen was thirteen. He didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in his mouth. We are survivors. We do what we need to do.

It has been 702 days since they were last seen and 690 days since Bessie’s last journal entry, but I cannot stop searching. Searching for the only answer as to what happened, what accident could have occurred. It had to be an accident. Some say they might have purposefully hiked out and started new lives. Glen wouldn’t do that, he would not just walk away from me, from his farm, from his family. And he would not leave Bessie if she could not make it. He loves her so. You can tell she loves him just as much. You can see it in her eyes. No. It was an accident. It had to be an accident. All their supplies were still on the boat. Bessie’s journal, Glen’s rifle, their money, their hiking and camping supplies, their food, all left on the scow. There was no sign of trouble, just the two of them missing. They had all they needed to survive and planned to stay near the water if anything went awry.

When his letter arrived about his accident in Marble Canyon, I wondered how Bessie was doing on the trip. It would have shook me up to see Glen being thrown from the scow while going through a rapid, after getting knocked in the chin with the sweep. And then to see him struggle to get back on the boat after being underwater and tossed through the rushing water. Not the type of Honeymoon most girls would agree too. Bessie is different though. She is tough and eager for adventure.

I didn’t wait. They wrote me over and over that the worst water was behind them, but I never believed it. I never stopped fearing for them. I should have been there. I wished with all that I am that I would hear from my boy by December 11th, but, when I didn’t, I realized I wasn’t surprised. I didn’t wait. I was on my way to Las Vegas the next day.

I feel like I have searched everywhere and nowhere. I am thankful for so many folks who have helped me. I wish I could be on every search... on every ground search, on every plane, on every river trip. I have nothing left. I want to search every side canyon and ravine, but the money’s gone. This depression is hitting the country hard. Glen’s insurance money is gone. I have already mortgaged my farm, I have drained accounts. I have done things I am not proud of. I have nothing left except my will. I know that my boy and sweet Bessie have passed. I just cannot stop trying to find them, I NEED to know what happened!

I believe I know where it happened now. I thought for so long that the water was calm in that part of the river, no matter what anyone said. That rapid was worse than I ever knew. Ellsworth has helped me understand this. I am a man who accepts what comes my way, but, in this case, I wish so many things had gone differently. I wish they had accepted the life preservers Emery had offered them when they stopped at the village on the south rim. I wish there had been more water when they ran the river. I wish we had checked what was on the other end of the scow line before Emery had cut it. That line was stuck tight to something below the waves.

Despite it all, I have been planning a fourth search, this time by water. I want to give those side canyons to the north, too rugged to reach by foot, a closer look. When I sleep, I search for them, every night. Until I have the means again, dreams will have to do. As I sit ...