1933: When my youngest son, Frank, was 3 1/2 years old, We lived about twenty miles south of a town called Dove creek, Colorado.
The place where we lived was very thinly populated and there were lots of trees and canyons.
One October afternoon when the days were warm and the nights were cool, Frank which we called (Junior) left the house with his father and his older brother, Earl, who was home from school with a sore foot.
They went out and Junior watched them hitch a team of horses to a load of logs that they were going to take about two miles south of there to build a house where we were going to live.
After watching the team being hitched up Junior was told to go back to the house and stay with his mother.
Instead of doing that he decided to follor his Father and brother. He must of lost sight of them and took the wrong road and started the wrong way.
(My note: as told to me by others.) A bear crossed the horse tracks after my dad and brother went by. I didn't know the difference between bear tracts and horse tracts.
He wandered a long the edge of the canyon for about three and a half to four miles. A girl by the name of Genevieve Rose came across him on the way home from school. She put him on her horse and took him on to her home. Her brother, Glen, then put him on the horse and took him to his own home, getting tere about dark.
Junior was avery tired and the next day didn't feel like doing anything but sit in a rocking chair.
Meanwhile when Junior didn't come back with his father and brother I started looking all over the ranch yard to see if he was around.
After not finding him, I came to the conclusion that he had went with his father. His father and brother came back and it was then we realized that he was gone somewhere. The first thing the people did down there when they found out he was gone, started looking for tracks.
They found his tracks and followed them down the road for about a mile then he left the road and went into the woods.